


In The Time We Have

by HeidiW



Category: Tomb Raider - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeidiW/pseuds/HeidiW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set one year after Healing, Lara Croft needs a holiday, and Elsie Trainor is only too happy to oblige. Little do either of them know it will fundamentally alter the nature of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, CHAPTER 1

“Hang on, how'd you break your toe??” asked Lara.

Elsie placed her phone on speaker as she mixed the stew. “By being a klutz,” she said sheepishly. “I had to jump over a car’s hood, a moving car, mind you, and well, I screwed the landing. We ended up shooting it a few more times, finally managed to nail it in the end.”

“You mean you continued with it, toe and all?”

“Well, sure,” said Elsie. “It comes with the job, Lara. Bumps and bruises, broken bones sometimes…anyway you should talk.”

“Ouch!” said the brunette.

“Oh, but the shot looks so cool now,” said the blonde excitedly, adding a dash of thyme to the brew. “I’ll send you a clip once we get the dailies back, you’ll be proud of me.”

“Bugger, Elsie,” said Lara. “Please be careful…”

Elsie chuckled. “I will if you will.”

A sigh. “Fair point,” admitted the brunette.

“So where are you off to next?” asked Elsie. "Please tell me you're not going back to Syria with all the shit going on over there these days..."

“I'm not, but…that’s partly why I called, actually,” said Lara.

Elsie turned the heat down on the saucepan. “What do you mean?”

The brunette hesitated.

“Lara?”

“Sam says I’m a bit…knackered,” said the brunette. “Apparently I’m...obsessing…”

Oh shit…

“And in truth, she’s right…”

Elsie dragged a stool closer to the counter and sat down.

“Lara,” said the blonde, “from everything you've told me it seems like you've hardly stopped to take a breath in two years..."

“I had to, Elsie,” said Lara softly. “It’s doubly frustrating that all I’ve seemed to come up with are more questions, and hardly any answers…I know I’m close…but at the same time I know I can't keep going at this pace..."

“You need a breather,” said Elsie. "Really, Lara. Why don't you and Sam go somewhere?"

"That's just it, Elsie," said Lara. "We're always going somewhere. Things just tend to…get out of control…”"

"I meant somewhere not archaeology-related, someplace you could just clear your mind of that shit. Why not try Venice, it’s such a beautiful city, and -- "

"Tombs."

"Okay, bad example," said Elsie. "How about Paris?"

"Crypts."

"Argh. Okay, Rome then."

"Catacombs."

"Geez Louise, Lara," said Elsie, slapping her thigh in exasperation. "It's all work with you, isn't it?"

"Hence..."

"Well, how about Vegas, then?" Suggested Elsie. "Pretty sure there's no ancient dead stuff down there."

"Elsie -- "

"I know, that's the worst one of them all, isn't it?" asked Elsie. "I can't picture you playing the one-armed bandits anyway."  
Silence.

“Helloooooo…”

“I shouldn’t be burdening you with this…”

“Burden away!” exclaimed Elsie. “God, Lara, stop being a freaking martyr. I want to help.”

A sigh.

"Sam feels…I need a break from everything, to clear my head…she thinks it would do me good if I…”

Something in Lara’s tone caught Elsie’s attention; her voice had a delicacy that she’d never heard before.

“Those little holidays of yours, in the wilds,” ventured Lara hesitantly, “Do you take them every year?”

Elsie’s heart caught in her throat. Did she dare hope…?

“Twice a year, actually,” said Elsie, trying to keep an even tone. “Normally a week in midsummer and another in the fall…why?”

“I was wondering…if…you’d like some company next time…”

“Are you freaking kidding me??”

“But I really don’t want to impose – ”

“Oh hush you daft duck,” blurted Elsie in an exaggerated Scottish brogue. “Of course I’d love your company, my God!”

“But please tell me if it’s not conv– ”

“Stop being a hermit!”

“Sorry,” breathed Lara. “It’s just…this isn’t easy for me, Elsie…”

Elsie bit her lip. “I know,” she said softly. “I’m just, well, a little shocked, Lara…but not in a bad way, mind you.”

“You and I both,” said Lara. “But I think…I need this.”

Elsie’s stomach twisted at the emotion in her friend’s voice; she shuddered to think of the young Englishwoman’s frame of mind for her to be reaching out so...

“No one’s indestructible, Lara,” said Elsie earnestly. “There's no shame in that.”

“If…you’re really sure…”

“I promise I will bring you to Zen Central,” said Elsie. “Let’s do this.”

 

-oOo-

 

It was a sight Elsie had never expected to lay eyes on again.

There she was, clad in a brown form-fitting knitted woollen top with a scoop neckline, khaki pants and well-worn hikers’ boots. The Englishwoman’s arms were crossed as she leaned back against a large poster of Mystique in the airport terminal, one leg bent up at the knee with the corresponding boot pressed against the wall. Her long brown hair was bound in its familiar loose ponytail and partly spilled across one shoulder.

Elsie’s stomach knotted. Plainly clad as she was, the brunette was heart-stoppingly beautiful.

The blonde stood transfixed, hardly noticing the throngs of people moving about the airport terminal. What had instead caught her attention was Lara’s body language: defensive and guarded, brown eyes darting back and forth amongst the crowds, her demeanour that of a cornered animal just waiting for a chance to bolt.

_Damn._

The brunette’s gaze finally fell on her, and the archaeologist’s countenance instantly changed. She pushed off the wall, brown eyes filled with relief and appreciation.

Elsie dashed through the crowd and utterly threw herself at her friend, wrapping Lara in a bear hug while simultaneously locking her legs around the startled brunette’s waist. The archaeologist staggered back a step, somehow managing to keep her balance as she returned the blonde’s near crushing embrace.

“God I missed you!” whispered Elsie into the Englishwoman’s ear. She had no care of the countless eyes on them: all she wished in that instant was for the hands of time to grind to a halt as her universe shrunk to a few square feet of linoleum. The blonde determined never to let go.

"Elsie," whispered the brunette after considerable time, "You know I cherish you dearly…but you're getting seriously heavy -- "

The blonde finally slid off her friend. “Was wondering how long you’d last,” she laughed. Taking the archaeologist's hands in hers, she smiled and slowly shook her head. "I still can't believe you're really here, my God..."

Lara glanced down shyly. “That was…quite the greeting,” she said softly. “Better than I deserve, really…”

“You’ll always be welcome in my life, Lara,” said Elsie, squeezing the brunette’s hands for emphasis. She nodded to the sliding doors. “C’mon, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Elsie grabbed Lara’s small duffle while the latter retrieved her backpack, there being no other luggage. Lara evidently travelled light.

They made their way down several blocks to where Elsie’s car was parked curbside. The American tossed Lara’s duffle in the back seat.

She turned to find the brunette staring with evident concern at her admittedly battered Volkswagen Thing.

“Okay, she may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts,” assured the blonde.

Lara slowly raised her gaze to meet the American’s.

“It’ll get us there, yes?” asked the brunette.

“Nice,” said Elsie gruffly. “Get in.”

Lara tucked her backpack into the back and slid into the passenger seat.

“She’ll take us to where we need to go,” said Elsie encouragingly. “Don’t you worry.”

“What about getting us back?” asked Lara.

“Well if you’re gonna get all technical – “

She turned the key.

The car started, gurgled for a moment, then stalled.

“Cripes,” breathed Elsie, hitting her forehead against the steering wheel in embarrassment. “Great timing, girl.”

“Would it help if I pushed?”

“It might!” barked Elsie, turning the key again.

This time the engine turned over, and while it rattled like a half-empty bottle of pills, it continued to run.

“See?” said Elsie with relief. “No problem…”

Lara glanced at her sideways, her brown eyes dubious.

In her excitement Elsie popped the clutch a little too quickly; the car shuddered violently, a young couple on the sidewalk jumping back at the bar’s abrupt lurch, and stalled once more. The blonde felt like hiding under the cowl.

“Just say it,” said the American resignedly. “You know you want to.”

Lara instead remained silent, gazing up at the sky and biting her lower lip, doing her utmost to keep a smile from her features - and not entirely succeeding.

But to Elsie, the sight was worth infinitely more than a few embarrassing stalls.


	2. Chapter 2

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, Chapter 2

The plan was to sleep at Elsie’s flat and leave for western Maine in the morning, it being too late in the day to set out with reasonable daylight ahead.

"Out of the question," said Lara, leaning against the kitchenette’s counter. "I won't kick you out of your own bed, Elsie. I can manage perfectly well on the couch."

"Who said anything about kicking me out?" countered the blonde, rummaging through a cupboard and pulling out a handful of oatmeal sachets. "We'll share, of course."

Lara blinked. "Share...?"

Elsie closed the cupboard and smiled. "Lara, we've slept in the same sleeping bag together, for heaven’s sake."

"Point taken,” said the brunette. “I just…don’t want to encroach on your space – “

Elsie tossed the sachets on the kitchenette’s side table and approached her friend; grasping Lara’s hand, she planted a kiss in the Englishwoman’s palm.

“Encroaching implies an undesired presence,” said the blonde, slowly shaking her head. “Lara, you could never encroach on me.”

Lara’s shoulders sagged.

“I…don’t know what to say…”

“You said it already,” said Elsie, smiling. “At Christmas, remember?”

Lara looked down to her feet and clenched her jaw.

Elsie gently raised Lara’s chin and gazed into her friend’s beautiful brown eyes.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I know it’s not easy for you.”

“I meant it," said Lara sincerely. "I just wish I could've done more..."

“Well, now that you’re here,” said the blonde with a grin, “You can give me a hand with this stupid entertainment unit I got at IKEA. Maybe you can translate the instructions for me…you must know Old Norse, right?”

Lara smiled. "Not really, but I'm game."

With that Elsie grasped led her companion to battle the wooden Swedish devil lurking in the corner of her living room.

 

-oOo-

 

"Would you eat an orangutan?" queried Elsie as she snapped the car's canvas top into position.

"How is that even relevant?" asked Lara as she donned her pack. "You're comparing traditional Scottish cuisine to a…a primate!"

"But would you?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed the brunette, shuddering. "Bugger, that's just...disturbing."

"So there it is," countered the blonde as she locked the car. “Same as eating animal entrails.”

"I think there are a _few_ differences,” maintained Lara, “between eating sheep parts and an orangutan!"

"Eating sheep _entrails_ ," corrected Elsie.

“Haggis is NOT entrails,” argued Lara. “It’s the heart, liver and lungs, mixed with various spices and – ”

“And stuffed in the sheep’s stomach,” interrupted the blonde, sticking out her tongue. “Blech.”

“They do cook it, you know,” explained Lara. “It's not like they rip open the carcass with their bare hands and feast on the innards like barb-- ”

“May as well just eat an orang,” said Elsie.

Lara scrunched her nose in aversion. “You do realize that’s almost cannibalism, yes? They share most of our DNA.”

“Haggis,” said Elsie, sticking a finger in her mouth for emphasis. “Blech.”

“Well, ‘blech’ to orangutan hors-d’oeuvres,” countered the brunette.

“Double blech,” said Elsie, feigning a dry heave.

“Can we change the subject, please,” said Lara, half laughing. “Before we make ourselves sick…”

“Fine,” said Elsie, pulling out a map from her backpack and spreading it out on the car’s hood. "Here, have a look."

Lara joined her as she adjusted her pack's straps for snugness.

The American drew a line with her finger extending from the gravel road that roughly paralleled a small river heading west. "I've never been to this part of the State," she explained, "So this’ll be new for me too. Total wilderness, Lara. Topography shows it to be exceptionally rugged, which probably explains why there's no development here. No hiking trails or logging roads, so we should pretty much have the place to ourselves."

Lara brushed her hair from her eyes and smiled. "Perfect."

Elsie folded the map and stuffed it in back her pack, noting as the brunette hooked a climbing axe onto her belt. She wondered if Lara brought the axe with her unconsciously, or if she truly couldn't bring herself to go anywhere without it. Either way, it was a dismaying thought.

The brunette seemed more at ease now, at least. Elsie had noticed the archaeologist casting furtive glances behind them as they drove up from Portland. Each time a car or truck would catch up to them on the highway the rearward glances would increase in frequency, her nervous fidgeting betraying the young Englishwoman’s subconscious anxiety.

_She so needs this…_

A few last checks of their gear to ensure they hadn't left anything behind, and the two young women trudged off into the wilderness.

 

-oOo-

 

They set up their first camp at sunset on an elevated outcrop that gave them a rare unobstructed view of the hinterlands. True to Elsie's word, they hadn’t encountered a single soul all day. The wilds were thick, rough and untamed, and Elsie found herself wondering how many humans had passed through these parts.

Despite the rugged terrain, the two had managed almost six miles, leaving them both exhilarated and exhausted. There was no real justification for such alacrity, but Lara seemed so energized and invigorated that Elsie was loath to distract her by slowing the pace.

And truth be told, she was amazed at the Englishwoman's stamina. Her curiosity prompted her to see how she could measure up physically to the archaeologist: she'd kept up without complaint, but she'd pushed herself almost to her limits doing it -- she'd been intensely relieved when Lara had agreed to her choice of campsite.

The fire was crackling vigorously, glowing embers drifting up lazily into the dimming, pinkish-purple skies. The two young women sat next to each other near the campfire, drinking from their canteens to replenish fluids lost during the day’s hike. They could afford to drink liberally; following the general course of the river meant fresh water was always within easy walking distance.

The blonde rummaged through her pack and produced a rectangular blue box with distinctive orange lettering that instantly caught Lara's attention.

The brunette's eyes were disbelieving. "Are...are those...?"

"Jaffa Cakes, yeah," confirmed Elsie with an impish smile as she opened the carton.

Lara looked at her as though she were a unicycle-riding ostrich playing a ukulele. "But how did -- "

"I cheated," answered the blonde as she slid a cake out of the box and handed it to the brunette. "I e-mailed Sam and asked her what you liked, food-wise. She said you're not too fussy, but she did mention one definite penchant for these ‘Jaffa Cake’ thingies. They weren't easy to find this side of the Pond, I might tell you!"

The brunette's expression was unfathomable.

"Oh please tell me she didn't pull a fast one on me," asked Elsie, suddenly concerned Sam might have taken the opportunity to pull some prank - Lara had described her as decidedly mischievous after all.

"No," said Lara slowly, "No, she was quite truthful...I have to admit I'm a bit gobsmacked, actually..."

"That's good, right?" asked the blonde hopefully.

Lara smiled. "It is," she said softly. "Thank you for this, Elsie. It's...really sweet of you."

Relieved, the blonde shook a cake from the box and took an exploratory bite, savouring the chocolaty-orange taste. "Not bad," she said, nodding, her mouth still half full. "Not bad at all…I can see why you would have an affinity for these things."

"Welcome to addiction," said Lara with a wry smile as she took a bite of her own treat.

"I'm kinda surprised you'd be hooked on something like this, actually," said Elsie as she took a second bite. "These don’t exactly seem your style."

Lara paused mid-chew and blinked. "What do you mean?"

Elsie indicated the brunette with a wave of her hand. "Well, just look at you," she said, smiling. "You've got the most insanely perfect bod humanly imaginable -- "

Lara fumbled her cake and dropped it in the dirt.

"Whoops," said Elsie. “Anyway, I didn’t figure you to have much of a sweet tooth…though I guess you do work it off, don’t you? That might explain why you’re as strong as a freaking Amazon, too…”

Elsie handed Lara another of the confections, noting that the brunette's cheeks had become flushed.

“Hey,” she said, touching the brunette’s arm. “You okay? You’re not self-conscious, I hope?”

Lara gaze was directed at the cake in her hand. “I’m not that special, Elsie,” she said, shaking her head. “You put me on such a pedestal…”

It was the blonde’s turn to be shocked. “You’re kidding, right?” she said disbelievingly. “Listen to me very carefully: you’re a freaking knockout, Lara. Like, in a totally different league. And while I'm at it, you’re fucking brilliant too. And a bookworm on top of all that. And you’re probably stronger than most dudes. Mary Sues would be jealous of you for Christ’s sake.”

Lara's body language screamed awkwardness.

“Seriously,” continued the blonde. “Do you have any faults at all? Cause I haven’t seen any.”

“Quite a number, actually,” said Lara softly.

Elsie silently cursed herself. _Shit…why’d I have to go there…_

“I can give you a list, if you like,” said Lara, finally looking Elsie straight in the eye.

“All I know,” said Elsie, thinking fast to retrieve the situation, “Is that sitting right here is the most amazing person I’ve ever known. And she happens to be my friend.”

Lara’s mouth closed, her gaze shifting back to her cake. The door to self-criticism had slammed firmly shut.

Elsie shifted over till she sat side by side with the brunette and slipped an arm around the archaeologist’s waist. “And as a bonus,” she whispered while nuzzling Lara's ear, “She has this adorable dorky smile that just melts the heart…”

That did it. Lara’s gaze remained fixed on her cake but she was biting her lip in a poor attempt at suppressing a grin.

“I think I’m liking your list better than mine,” admitted the brunette.

“Atta girl,” said Elsie encouragingly as she slowly traced a finger along the shell of Lara’s ear. “That’s more like it…I'm sure we can think of loads of stuff to add to it, too..."

"No, please, that's quite enough," breathed the Englishwoman.

"Not by a long shot," stated Elsie. "C'mon, gimme something."

Lara turned to her. "You can't be serious."

"I can be on occasion," countered the blonde. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "Pretty ears, too..."

"You can't expect me to -- "

"Come on, it'll do you good," insisted the blonde. "Think of yourself in a positive light for once. Plus I’ll keep badgering you till you do."

Lara sighed. "Well..."

"Out with it," demanded Elsie, running her fingers playfully through Lara's ponytail.

"Just remember, this isn't me saying this," said the archaeologist shyly, "But...you did remark on my voice once last year..."

"Now THAT definitely goes on the list," agreed Elsie enthusiastically. "I swear I'd totally orgasm having you read bedtime stories to me..."

"Elsie!" exclaimed Lara, eyes wide with equal parts shock and amusement.

"I totally would," said the blonde, grinning. She snugged closer. "Come on, what else can we add?"

Lara’s shocked expression was unchanged. “I think you’ve stoked my ego quite enough for one night!”

"Oh, come on," pleaded the blonde.

"You wouldn't want me to get conceited now, would you?" countered the archaeologist. "Because I'd have to add that to my list."

Elsie pouted. "Party-pooper."

Lara wrapped the blonde in a hug. "But for what it's worth," she said softly, "I do appreciate what you're trying to do...truly..."

"Well, I'm nowhere done with that list," said Elsie as she gently stroked Lara’s hair. "So just be ready, Lara Croft, 'cause I'm just gonna keep driving it into that thick skull of yours just how amazing you are."

"You are entirely too good to me," whispered Lara, squeezing harder.

"Nah," replied the blonde. "So, what are you gonna read to me tonight?"

"Oh, God..."


	3. Chapter 3

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, Chapter 3

Dawn greeted Elsie as a dim glow seeping through half-closed eyelids. The blonde yawned and rolled over lazily; her arm reached out to wrap around her companion only to fall upon an empty sleeping bag.

She opened her eyes fully, squinting briefly while adjusting to the light. At least Lara's pack was still there, she noted with relief. Not that she worried the brunette would have vanished without her in the night, but the pack's presence was at least reassuring.

She turned over and peered out the tent flap to find the brunette sitting cross-legged out on the outcrop and reading a book.

Elsie flopped her head back down and smiled to herself. _Ever the bookworm..._

She lay there, unmoving, quietly taking stock of the previous day; all in all, Lara seemed to be enjoying herself, energized, even. She'd even seemed comfortable with Elsie's blatant cuddling in the snug confines of the sleeping bag, to the blonde’s delight.

Sam’s e-mail reply had revealed Lara had been getting progressively worse for months, going with little sleep and pushing herself ever harder, to the point that the Asian-American feared the archaeologist might vanish from the Earth as her father had. But here at least, in the splendid tranquility and isolation of the Maine wilderness, the brunette seemed to be finding a second wind.

A moment later Elsie blinked. The tent seemed noticeably brighter, the distant birdsongs confirming her suspicion: she’d nodded off.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, stretched and rubbed her eyes. Drawing a deep breath, she rummaged through her pack until she found her copy of Daughters of the Witching Hill. Determined to join her friend for a bit of reading before breakfast, she grasped the tome and crawled out of the tent.

Only the Englishwoman had disappeared. Elsie staggered to her feet and looked about the campsite: there was no sign of the archeologist.

Her eyes fell on the book Lara had been reading, carefully splayed upside down on the outcrop. Elsie noted the lack of a title on the binding or cover.

Curious, Elsie dropped down to her haunches and proceeded to flip through the tome’s pages. It was immediately apparent it was no book in the conventional sense: rather, it looked to be a haphazard collection of notes that had been fairly recently rebound for convenience’s sake, the various papers within being of different colours, weights, sizes and texture.

The contents made little sense; hand-drawn maps interspersed with scribbled notes that revealed little. The book expert in her recognized that the majority of the writing exhibited the telltale fading effects indicative of the passage of time, but the later pages displayed fresher writing in a different hand.

_Croatoan…sounds familiar, where have I heard that before? Sie ist der schissel…that’s gotta be German…Star Phenomenon…what is this stuff?_

A weathered piece of graph paper clipped to a bound page contained several lines of handwritten text that appeared to be in Cyrillic.

She flipped over another page, drawing a sharp breath as her eyes fell on words that she recognized.

_Yamatai. Axis research station._

_Trinity._

_Roanoke colony. Walter Raleigh. Connection?_

Her mouth opened at the sight of the next hastily-scribbled note in fresh ink.

_Maine dig. Beacham killed. Trinity involved. Ogham stones?_

Elsie’s stomach twisted into knots. “Fuck!!”

“Elsie?”

The blonde jumped to her feet and spun around.

Lara approached her slowly, almost warily, a canteen dangling from the carrying strap in the archaeologist’s hand.

“What are you doing?”

 

-oOo-

 

Elsie held out the brunette’s notebook. “What the hell is this, Lara?” she asked angrily. “I thought you came here to get a break from this shit!?”

The archaeologist stopped in her tracks.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Elsie,” said Lara darkly, her tension rising. She’d always kept her notebook safe from prying eyes. “That’s…private.”

“Way to sideskirt the issue,” countered the blonde. “And anyway, if it’s so private, you shouldn’t have left it lying around.”

“I was only gone for a moment – ”

“Answer my fucking question!” demanded Elsie. “Did you come here looking for something, Lara? Is that the real reason you came here?”

Lara shook her head. “No,” she said. “I didn’t lie to you, Elsie.”

Elsie’s shoulders sagged. “Sam was right,” she said dismally. “You are obsessing. You can’t even go one freaking day without diving right back into it, can you?”

“It’s…not that simple…”

“The hell it isn’t,” said Elsie. She brandished Lara’s book before her. “I’m keeping this until we get back – ”

Lara took a step forward. “Don’t even think it!”

The blonde’s grey eyes flashed angrily. “Would you rather I burn it??”

Lara's nostrils flared. She took another step toward the American and held out her hand.

"Give it back, Elsie," she demanded. “I’m serious.”

"No."

The two young women stood absolutely still, Lara trying to get a read on the blonde, desperately searching for any sign of wavering. But her friend’s resolute glare dashed her hopes.

Lara dropped her canteen and moved toward the blonde. “Don’t do this – ”

Elsie took a half-step back.

"Are you going to hit me, Lara?" she asked softly.

Lara froze. For the first time since she’d known the American there was a genuine expression of wariness on the blonde’s face – the fact that it was directed at Lara only made it doubly mortifying. The archaeologist shook her head vigorously.

"Of course not," said Lara. "I would never do that. But Elsie, I really must have my notes back...this isn't up for discussion…"

"Don’t back me into a corner, Lara," warned the blonde, her pale eyes intense and unblinking. “You might not like the result…”

The American stood at little more than arm’s length, the book tantalizingly almost within reach. If she was quick --

Lara lunged.

But Elsie was ready. She dropped to the ground and hooked her feet into Lara's in a perfect drop toehold. The brunette crashed unceremoniously to the dirt.

“Shit!”

The archaeologist was back on her feet in seconds, but it was enough. Elsie was off and running.

The Englishwoman pursued, but the blonde was frustratingly quick on her feet, running at a breakneck pace down the slope before plunging headlong into the brush. Lara was far from slow; with her long, athletic legs, she could outsprint all but the fleetest, which made her seeming inability to close the gap all the more exasperating.

It didn’t take long for the archaeologist to realize where the American was headed.

_No!_

“Elsie! Stop!!”

But the blonde never slowed.

Branches and snags whipped painfully at Lara’s face and arms as she ran through the brush with reckless abandon, heedless of the stinging cuts.

A few moments later she burst out of the thickets, only to find Elsie on the riverbank: she’d arrived just in time to see the American throw her notes into the rushing waters.

“NO!!”

Lara sprinted for the river’s edge but was quickly tackled by the blonde; both crashed heavily to the ground.

“Lara, it’s gone!” yelled Elsie. “Let it go!”

The brunette kicked herself free and scrambled for the water, before reeling under a fresh impact as Elsie threw herself on the archaeologist. The blonde used her momentum to roll the brunette onto her side, wrapping one leg around Lara’s waist for good measure.

Lara twisted her body and overpowered the American, forcing herself back on all fours. Elsie’s’s grip barely waivered however, as she doggedly kept trying to roll both of them away from the water’s edge.

Lara panicked; every second pushed the odds of her ever recovering her notebook closer to the infinitesimal. She crawled on all fours toward the river, now only a few frustrating feet beyond her reach, only to be thwarted as Elsie’s leg wrapped once more around her midsection, the other hooking around one of Lara’s legs and causing her to fall flat on her stomach.

“Let… _GO_!!” cried the Englishwoman, reflexively striking out in desperation and catching Elsie square on the jaw, the loud crack audible over the roar of rushing water.

The blonde’s grip was finally broken as she fell on her back. She was finally free of Elsie’s relentless clutches, but Lara didn’t move for the water. Rather, she was on her knees, both hands cupped over her mouth, horrified at the results of her handiwork.

“Dear God…”

Elsie was propped up on an elbow, rubbing her bruised jaw and glaring at the brunette. “Never, huh?”

“Elsie…I’m so sorry…”

Lara reached out for her companion, only to have the blonde swat her hand away.

“Just…leave it, okay?” said Elsie.

The American got to her feet and stormed off in the direction of their campsite without so much as a backward glance, leaving behind a mortified archaeologist.

 

-oOo-

 

The rest of the day was decidedly discomforting. For one, Elsie’s jaw ached badly, though she didn’t think there was any real damage. But she was becoming increasingly worried the same couldn’t be said of her friendship with Lara.

The two young women hardly spoke; their hiking, which had been so fleet of foot and exhilarating the day before, had become slow and ponderous.

Elsie was hardly cognizant of the beauty of her surroundings; the wilds passed by virtually unnoticed as her gaze constantly fell upon her grim-faced companion. When she'd finally suggested a spot to make camp late in the day the brunette had simply dropped her pack to the ground and wandered off without a word.

In the event Elsie had time to pitch their tent, set lines in the river and start a fire by the time Lara returned.

“Hey,” said Elsie sweetly, holding out a Jaffa Cake for her friend. Lara walked by her, ignoring the proffered treat.

“I’m going to bed,” said the brunette neutrally.

“What? But it’s not even dark yet,” said the American. “Lara, wait – “

But the archaeologist had already kicked off her boots and shuffled into the tent.

_Shit…_

In truth, Elsie didn’t have much of an appetite either -- the cake tasted like so much damp cardboard. Her stomach was heaving so badly she thought she was going to be sick if she had another bite.

She gazed up at the faint stars emerging in the distant twilight, tears welling in her eyes. The two friends had hurt each other. Badly.

And it was killing her inside.

She tossed the rest of the confection in the fire. She couldn’t let this continue.

She removed her boots and crawled into the tent; Lara had preemptively slipped into the sleeping bag with her back to the tent flap; the sight twisted like a knife in the blonde’s stomach.

Elsie edged closer until she was directly behind the brunette. Lara, for her part, gave no acknowledgment of the blonde’s presence.

The American reached out and gently stroked the archaeologist's hair.

“Lara, we need to talk,” she said softly.

A sigh. “It’s done, Elsie,” said Lara. “We were both a bit plonkers today…let’s just…sleep it off, okay?”

“I don't think trying to sleep it off is going to change much, Lara,” said the blonde. “Please understand…I was really trying to help…”

“That kind of help I didn’t need,” said the Englishwoman.

“I’m sorry – “

"You have no idea what that book meant to me, Elsie," said Lara crossly.

"I don't give a flying shit about that book," said Elsie. "I give a shit about you. You're my friend, dammit..."

Silence.

“Please talk to me, Lara,” pleaded the blonde. “You have no idea how miserable this is making me…”

“What would you have me say?” countered the Englishwoman. “Would it help if I said I’m just as miserable? Because you’ve no idea how much I hate myself right now…”

“I guess you must hate me too,” said Elsie wretchedly, her voice catching.

“I could never hate you, Elsie,” said Lara, still unmoving. “I keep telling myself…you just had no way of knowing.”

“Knowing…what?” asked the blonde, a sense of foreboding looming within her.

“It's…not important now.”

Elsie cupped the brunette’s shoulder. “Lara, please, tell me…I’m getting the feeling I did something awful but I don’t know what…”

“So just throwing my notebook away wasn’t awful enough?”

“Lara, please...”

The brunette sighed.

“That book held information that I’d hoped might help me discover sites my father might’ve been searching for…and by extension why he disappeared.”

Elsie drew her hand back, a chill spreading down her spine.

“What?” she whispered, horrified.

“Does knowing that make you feel any better?” asked Lara.

Elsie fought a buildup of anguish. “No,” she choked. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Like I said, it’s not important now,” said the brunette. “Let’s just…get some sleep, okay?”

“Lara, why didn’t you tell me?” asked the blonde.

“Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes,” said Elsie sadly. “Yes, it does.”

Elsie leaned back and grabbed her pack, feeling within until her hand closed around the familiar leather binding. Withdrawing the tome, she reached over Lara’s side and placed the book in her hand.

Lara’s head jerked up. Quickly grasping the tattered notebook, she flipped hurriedly through the pages, evidently hardly believing her eyes.

She sat up and spun around to face Elsie, her brown eyes wide.

“But…I saw you throw this in the river,” she said incredously. “How did -- ”

“Actually…that was mine,” explained Elsie. “I dropped yours in the bushes on the way down to the river…I figured you wouldn’t notice…”

Lara’s eyes were glittering as she gazed on the weathered leather cover. “I thought I’d lost this…”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Lara,” said Elsie. “I just didn’t want you to keep badgering me for it over the next five days. Anyway…I didn’t realize…I’m so sorry…”

Lara reached out and gently caressed Elsie's bruised jaw. "Elsie, I'm the one who should be sorry. I’ll never forgive myself – ”

“Well you’d better,” countered the blonde. “’Cause otherwise I won’t forgive myself for putting you through that shit. So we can both continue to be miserable as vegan butchers or we can put it behind us. Deal?”

Lara looked intensely relieved. “Deal,” she nodded. “And…I’ll leave my notebook in my pack from here on…I promise.”

Elsie grasped Lara’s hands in hers. “Let’s not fight again, ‘kay?” she said softly. “Gods I hated that…”

Lara smiled. "Friends, yes?"

"Forever," echoed the blonde.

The brunette bit her lip as her gaze focused on Elsie’s bruised jaw.

"Hey," said Elsie, squeezing her companion's hands comfortingly, "Stop torturing yourself. Everything's good."

"Elsie, that looks painful…"

“I'm fine, really,” assured the blonde. “I'm tougher than I look. Anyway, it does give us something else to add to that list, doesn't it?"

Lara looked at her quizzically. "I’m not sure I follow…?"

Elsie grinned. "A seriously wicked right hook."

Lara's expression became instantly downtrodden.

"Shit," swore Elsie, aghast. "Lara, I'm sorry...that was cheap. I wasn't thinking."

"No, I entirely deserve it," said the brunette dejectedly.

"No, you don't -- "

Lara’s brown eyes bored into hers. "I struck one of the very few people in this world I truly cherish," she said, shaking her head. "How can I not deserve it?"

Elsie pulled herself forward and wrapped her arms around the archaeologist. "Come here, you," she whispered into her friend's ear. "My lovely English muffin..."

"I don't deserve you," whispered Lara. "I'm shite."

Elsie drew back from the embrace and pressed two fingers to the brunette's lips. "Lara Croft, you are SO not ‘shite’…”

“I just – “

“Shhh,” breathed Elsie.

The blonde’s fingers drifted to a fresh scarlet gash running the length of Lara's cheekbone. Her eyes wandered; she was so close she beheld a faint plethora of hairline scars across Lara's features, most long since healed and only barely visible in the setting sun’s golden light. But far from detracting from the brunette's looks, they somehow only served to enhance them.

_Jeezus...._

Elsie couldn't count them all -- she wondered at the story each would tell: the pain, the trials, the suffering each represented, the seemingly countless hardships of Lara’s life…and yet, they came together into a living work of art.

Her friend was beyond beautiful.

"Elsie...?"

The blonde blinked; she'd been slowly trailing her fingers across Lara's features, tracing over the gossamer lines like so much dermal topography. She withdrew her hand hurriedly.

"S-sorry," she stammered.

Brown and grey eyes locked. Elsie swallowed nervously.

It was the brunette who broke the silence. "You didn't have to stop," she said softly.

Elsie could feel her cheeks flushing.

"I just…um...hey, how about some of those Jaffa Cakes, huh?"

Elsie scrambled out of the tent to ostensibly retrieve the box of treats near the campfire. Her heart was racing: she wiped her brow, stunned to see the back of her hand glistening with sweat.

_God, Trainor…what the Hell were you thinking...?_

If she'd looked back she might have noticed the brunette's shoulders sag.


	4. Chapter 4

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, Chapter 4

Elsie drew her canteen from the water and pushed herself up from the lake’s edge, eager to get back under the relative comfort of the shade – the midday sun was scorching, and the humidity wasn’t exactly alleviating her discomfort.

“Let’s take a breather, shall we?” called out Lara as she approached from behind, whipping out her own canteen for replenishment.

“Uh, sure…okay…”

Elsie quickly made her way up from the lake. Dropping her pack to the ground, she perched herself on a fallen moss-covered tree trunk, her feet dangling several inches off the ground. From her vantage she watched as Lara plunged her canteen into the pristine waters.

The blonde chewed her lower lip as she replayed the events of the previous day for the umpteenth time; she was immensely grateful the row between the two was over, but equally chagrined to see it immediately replaced with a distinct awkwardness, made all the more frustrating by it being entirely of her own doing.

_Cripes Elsie, did you think she was some life-sized doll for you to play with?_

She loved Lara, of course. But as a friend. Of course it was only as a friend, she told herself.

Wasn’t it?

Her actions had hinted otherwise.

The blonde kicked herself mentally. The brunette had Sam waiting for her back home, after all. And what kind of chance would she have, anyway? Their lives were utterly incompatible, never mind thousands of miles apart, and the last thing she would want is to risk her friendship --

She kicked herself again. _Why the hell am I even thinking about that…?_

Lara, for her part, continued to behave as though nothing had changed, but whether due to denial or a desire to shelter Elsie from discomfort, the blonde couldn’t tell. This in and of itself rattled her: she could normally read the brunette so well, but now the roles had seemingly reversed. Whatever Lara was playing at, she was keeping it very close to her chest.

Elsie tensed as the archaeologist made her way back from the lakeshore.

_Just relax, Trainor...she's not gonna eat you for crying out loud..._

Dropping her pack, the brunette propped herself up on the log next to the American. Uncomfortably close in fact, with barely a hand's breath separating the two.

"Hot today, huh," remarked Elsie nervously, her eyes fixed on an unremarkable patch of bramble a few yards ahead.

She could feel Lara's gaze on her.

Silence. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the lake’s waves against the shore.

The blonde fidgeted apprehensively.

Lara sided over until their hips touched.

_Oh God…_

Elsie’s entire body stiffened. She found herself holding her breath and had to consciously force her lungs to draw in precious air.

"I hope you've invested in peanut stocks?" asked the archaeologist matter-of-factly.

"I -- what??"

"You'll need them," explained Lara, "If you plan on feeding that elephant in the room long-term."

_Shit..._

"I...I don't -- "

"Look at me."

Elsie's heart was pounding.

"I - I can hear you just fine..."

"You didn't have any problems looking at me last night, Elsie," said Lara.

_Oh fuck, here it comes..._

"Come on," insisted the archaeologist. "I’m not keen on talking to ears..."

Elsie swallowed hard.

She turned to the brunette. Lara was gazing upon her with doleful eyes.

"So are we going to talk about this," said the archaeologist, "Or are we adopting a pachyderm?"

"I…I don't know what to say, Lara," breathed Elsie. "I'm sorry for last night..."

Lara tilted her head slightly and frowned. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I don’t know what I was thinking," said the blonde. "I just…zoned out...I’m sorry for weirding you out like that..."

"It was...different, I'll admit," acknowledged the Englishwoman. "But you certainly didn't 'weird me out', Elsie. It was...oddly nice, actually."

Elsie blinked. "You...you're not upset?"

The brunette shrugged. “Well, I _was_ a bit gutted that you didn’t think you could talk to me,” she said sadly. “I waited hoping you would, but…”

She paused, seeming to ponder the blonde. “Elsie, you’ve shown me so much affection, and then suddenly last night you were doing your best fetal impression. Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“I’m sorry for that – ”

“Stop apologizing!”

“Sorry.”

The brunette sighed.

Elsie buried her face in her hands. “God I’m hopeless…”

Lara pulled the blonde's hands away from her face. She gently raised her friend’s chin and gazed into her eyes.

"Bullocks," she said firmly. "Elsie, you may be the sweetest soul I've ever known...I consider myself blessed to have you in my life."

Elsie could feel the tears bubbling up within her.

"But I think you have to be honest with yourself," continued the archaeologist. "Don't you?"

 _God no_ , thought Elsie. _I can’t be…_

There was a knowing sadness in Lara’s eyes -- the brunette was so close…

Elsie caught herself leaning forward – and pulled back hastily.

Her retreat was suddenly interrupted by Lara’s mouth somehow pressing against her own.

The suppleness of the brunette's lips astonished her. If Elsie had been on her feet her liquefying knees would have sent her crumpling unceremoniously to the ground. Her already racing heart surged into dangerous territory.

The American’s senses overloaded; her eyes clouded over, sounds became muted. Only the softness of the brunette’s flesh still registered in her quickly fading mind. The pressure from the Englishwoman’s lips increased as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, a gentle hand cradling the back of her head.

The dizziness became overwhelming. She could feel herself floating away --

_Lara..._

\--- until darkness overtook her.

 

-oOo-

 

“Elsie?”

The American slowly emerged from the darkness, the muffled voice at first barely registering; she could sense she was lying on the ground as colours and shapes slowly coalesced into form.

Brown eyes hovering above hers, wide with concern, so close that Elsie could readily make out flecks of gold and amber within the beautiful brown irises.

_Good God…_

She wondered if there any part of her friend that was not over-the-top gorgeous.

“Lara…?” she croaked.

“Hey,” breathed the brunette, a relieved smile creasing her features as she brushed the blonde’s hair from her forehead. “Glad you’re back…you frightened me for a moment there…”

“Thought you’d…pulled a Poison Ivy on me?” whispered Elsie.

“I was rather hoping not!”

“What a way to go, though…” said the blonde dreamily, a faraway smile painted on her face.

“Well, someone seems to be feeling a little better,” said Lara slyly.

“Are you kidding, that kiss could’ve revived Ötzi the Iceman…”

“Yuck!”

“You're the archaeologist,” said Elsie, the cobwebs slowly sweeping from her mind. “That should be right up your alley…think of the history…”

“I draw the line at snogging corpses," said Lara, shuddering. "I think I’d rather eat your orang, thank you."

The blonde laughed softly at that.

The two young women gazed at each other in silence.

Elsie tried to make sense of it all; Lara’s kiss had swept away all doubts as to her underlying feelings for the brunette, but it had also opened up a gigantic Pandora’s Box.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position, taking a moment to steady herself from her lingering grogginess.

“Where do we go from here, Lara?” she asked. “We can’t pretend this didn’t happen…can we?”

The brunette looked uncertain. "No, we can’t," she finally voiced. "We just...carry on, don’t we?"

Elsie let out a deep breath. “This…makes things so complicated…”

Lara grasped Elsie’s hand. “It doesn’t have to be,” she said softly.

The blonde blinked.

“How can’t it?” she asked. “Lara, your life is out there…and mine’s here…and I don’t see either of us leaving that behind…”

“I know,” said the brunette quietly.

“…and…you have Sam…”

Lara’s eyes became downcast. “Yes,” she whispered.

Elsie tilted her head.

“Is everything all right between you two?”

The brunette hesitated.

“I…have been asking myself that same question,” said Lara. “I haven’t been a very good companion of late…but I hope so…”

“And now I’m the fly in the ointment,” added Elsie.

Lara looked at her. “No,” she said earnestly. “You’re not.”

Something about the brunette’s expression intrigued her.

"What are you saying, Lara?" she asked delicately.

The Englishwoman swallowed hard. “Elsie…I’ve danced with Death more times than I care to remember,” she explained. “And I’ve lost many good friends as a direct result of that. But at the same time I know I’m doing what I was put on this Earth to do, I know this beyond doubt…and I’m having a really hard time trying to reconcile that. Sometimes I feel that I'm destined more for filling Charon's purse than finding the truth hiding out there in the world..."

She sighed. To Elsie the brunette suddenly seemed immensely tired.

"I'm zonked out, Elsie," she said softly. "Knackered…I need to clear my head of some seriously dark shite…and…well…”

The Englishwoman bit her lip momentarily before continuing, gazing into the blonde’s grey eyes.

“A bit of love in my life…even in the time we have…sounds really good right now," she said, her voice cracking.

"Lara…are you...sure you're okay with this?" asked Elsie.

The brunette nodded solemnly. "I don't want you walking on eggshells around me like last night," she said. “Let’s just…take it as it comes, shall we? Whatever happens…happens.”

Elsie’s heart grew enough that she thought it would burst from her chest and make a redeemed Grinch proud.

She launched herself at the archaeologist like a cannonball.

" _Tackleglomp!!_ " she squealed, colliding full-force with Lara and wrapping herself around the startled Englishwoman.

"Oof!" gasped the archaeologist as she fell heavily backward, covered in a blonde blanket that was vigorously snuggling the hollow between the brunette’s ear and jawbone.

"Ow! Ow! Elsie -- I'm on a rock -- "

The blonde pushed herself off instantly. “Shit! Lara, I'm sorry!"

"It’s okay," said Lara painfully, pushing herself up and tossing the offending stone into the brush. She looked to her friend and smiled reassuringly.

“Dammit, I keep doing that to you don’t I?” lamented Elsie.

"I’m fine, really," said the brunette, shaking a few dried leaves from her ponytail, "It was just sticking in the small of my back…bugger though, Elsie, you didn't have to unleash it all at once...we have days yet..."

“Sorry,” breathed Elsie, clasping her hands together. “But…Lara, I’m just so _happy_ …”

“Really, I wouldn’t have guessed,” said Lara with a wry smile.

“Can we…oh...”

“What?”

“Could we just make camp here for today?” asked the blonde excitedly. “I know it’s just midday and all, but…suddenly I don’t feel much like hiking…”


	5. Chapter 5

IN THE TIME WE HAVE: Chapter 5

Elsie flicked on her tiny heart-shaped tea light, bathing the tent’s interior in a faint glow.

Brown and grey eyes connected.

“I don’t think I ever told you how much this meant to me,” said Elsie. “Lara, you turned one of the saddest Christmases ever into the happiest…”

The archaeologist smiled. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to call.”

“I know phone chats aren’t your thing,” stated the blonde. “But that only makes me appreciate them more.”

Since the previous Christmas the archaeologist had made a conscious effort to call on at least a semi-regular basis; Elsie had been profoundly moved by the Englishwoman’s determination to maintain contact with her friend from “across the pond” -- she suspected it was not in the brunette’s nature to maintain long distance friendships.

“I probably use up most of my minutes between you and Sam,” mused Lara. “And she and I share a flat.”

Elsie slowly traced the line of Lara’s collarbone with the tip of her finger, moving from shoulder to throat. “God I envy her,” she said softly.

“Don’t,” cautioned the brunette. “She’s had a really rough go of it these last two years, Elsie...”

The American bit her lip. “Still, though, she has you,” she said. “That’s gotta make up for all that and more.”

“Again with the pedestal,” lamented the archaeologist.

“In my books the Burj Khalifa wouldn’t be tall enough.”

“Bugger, Elsie,” said the brunette, blushing. “If you’re not careful I'm liable to start thinking you like me…”

“Dunno where you get that idea,” said the blonde, arching an eyebrow with mock dubiousness, all while slowly trailing her finger along the u-shaped hollow at the base of Lara’s throat.

"Call it intuition," explained the Englishwoman. "That, along with the groping."

Elsie smiled impishly at the brunette. It was true; she'd hardly kept her hands off her companion all afternoon.

"Okay fine," sighed the American, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Lara's nose. "I like you. There, I admit it, happy n-- "

Her words were cut off by Lara’s lips pressing against hers. This time there was a hunger to the brunette's caress: the softness of the Englishwoman’s lips was almost overshadowed by her probing tongue as it entwined itself with Elsie's in a loving embrace.

The American lost herself to bliss. Lara pressed in and deepened the kiss – any more and the brunette would be tickling her uvula. The archaeologist might appear demure to the unsuspecting eye, but she could kiss like a Greek goddess.

Elsie was swimming in Nirvana; she’d never experienced a kiss so completely dripping with passion. Such was its intensity that she could not so much as draw a breath, but the American determined to maintain the heavenly embrace as long as humanly possible, such trivialities as oxygen be damned.

Nonetheless, considerable tongue writhing later and Elsie’s lungs were screaming. Lara for her part showed no inclination of coming up for air, in fact she slowly wrapped an arm around the American’s neck as though just getting comfortable. Elsie desperately wanted to keep going, but it was no use – loathe as she was to end it, she didn’t want to pass out again.

Elsie drew back, only to have Lara press forward and maintain the embrace, if anything with an even greater determination to massage the blonde’s vocal chords as her hand cupped the back of her head. The American felt the telltale signs of dizziness begin to envelop her.

She knew she had only moments. Placing her hands against the brunette’s shoulders she pushed hard, finally managing to break the embrace, Lara’s tongue disentangling from hers only reluctantly. “Lara – sweets – " she gasped.

Lara blinked. “Elsie? What’s wrong?”

The blonde was breathing heavily. “Nothing,” she finally said, smiling reassuringly at her friend. “Really...but holy shit, you must have a soprano’s lungs…and where’d you learn to kiss like that, anyway?”

“I wasn’t aware I kissed in a particular way,” said the brunette, looking slightly embarrassed. "I suppose I’m a little unrefined..."

Elsie’s pale eyebrows raised. “Are you kidding?” she voiced, pressing a finger into the soft flesh of the brunette’s plush lower lip. “Damn, girl, you never told me you had a superpower.”

“Oh, come on – ”

“Oh, these are so going on the list,” blurted the blonde, smiling. “Angelina Jolie eat your heart out, Superlips is in the building.”

“You're daft,” said Lara, shaking her head.

Elsie grinned. “Gonna need a page two soon!”

"You and that list, it’s just -- oh, fine, then,” said the brunette resignedly, rolling her eyes with a subtle hint of a smile.

“Atta girl,” said the blonde, rubbing her nose affectionately against the archaeologist's. “That’s more like it.”

Lara's eyes flashed. "Another go?" she asked, leaning close.

"Geez Louise, lemme catch my breath!" laughed Elsie.

"Skiver," said the brunette with a pout.

"Am not," said the blonde, feigning shock and making a mental note to discreetly look the word up once they got back to civilization. “Anyway…Lara, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Aside from that, smartie pants."

"I love beans on toast."

“I’m serious!” exclaimed the blonde. “God, you’re impossible when you’re frisky!”

“Sorry,” offered Lara. “Elsie, you can always ask me anything, you know that…”

The American mulled her question carefully. "What is it you’re looking for, exactly?" she finally posed. "Out there, I mean…you've never really said."

Lara gazed at her quietly for several long moments, to the point where the blonde thought the archaeologist wouldn't answer.

"Truth," said the brunette finally.

"Oh, is that all."

Lara smiled. "Sorry," she said. "It's just that, sometimes I don't really know myself, Elsie."

The American felt a pang of guilt. She was supposed to be taking her friend's mind off her troubles, not grilling her in order to satisfy her own curiosity.

"I'm sorry," said Elsie. "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's not a topic I'm generally keen to discuss," said the archaeologist. "At least with most. But I don't mind you asking, really."

"Lara, it's okay, you don’t have to," insisted the blonde.

Lara smiled. "I suppose you could say I’m trying to reconcile with my father's memory, in a manner," she said. " I loved him as a child, truly, but when he…when he left me…I twisted that love into anger. I blamed him for leaving me for one of his fool's errands, and as I grew older...well…I came to genuinely resent him, Elsie…even though part of me so wanted to love him still."

She sighed. "Then, Yamatai. That opened my eyes, for better or worse. I saw things that couldn’t possibly be explained rationally…and it made me realize my father wasn’t the foolish dreamer I’d come to think of him. That turned my world on its head…”

Lara’s face suddenly took on a grim aspect. “I was gutted, Elsie…almost ten years of my life harbouring bitterness for my father…in the end I was the fool, not him. No child should grow up resenting its parent…”

“Unless the bastard totally deserves it,” interjected the blonde.

Lara’s eyes met hers, a knowing look exchanged between the two.

“Yes,” agreed the brunette solemnly. “That.”

Elsie entwined her fingers with the brunette’s. “Go on,” she whispered.

“I know I’ll never find him, Elsie,” continued Lara wistfully. “Of course I know that. But I hope…if I can find and document some of what he was looking for...maybe I can at least redeem him in the eyes of academia...and maybe in the process redeem myself a little to his memory, as well. But it still won’t make up for all those years I…I...bloody hell…”

The brunette clamped her mouth shut and swallowed.

“Hey,” said Elsie soothingly, squeezing Lara's hand. “Don’t start hating yourself again, ‘kay?”

“If I'd just -- ”

“’Cause if you do I’ll have to love you even more to make up for it,” continued the blonde.

A pained smile. “I don’t think that’s possible,” said Lara.

“I can try, can’t I?” asked Elsie mischievously. “But I think I understand now, Lara...I really do hope you find what you're looking for. And sooner rather than later."

"I hope so too, Elsie," echoed the brunette.

A thought popped into the American's head. "By the way, is your dad a Lord or something? Didn't you say you used to live on an estate?”

The brunette’s eyes gleamed with appreciation. “Thank you for that,” she said softly.

“For what?”

“’Is’, instead of ‘was’…it’s nice to think of him in the present, for a change.”

Elsie smiled and kissed the back of the archaeologist's hand.

“But to answer your question,” continued Lara. “Yes, he is.”

“Seriously?” said Elsie. “So…you would be nobility, then?”

Lara rolled her eyes.

“I take it that’s a yes?” prodded the blonde.

“Just…on a purely technical level,” said the brunette with obvious reluctance.

“Wow…to think I’m sleeping with royalty…”

“Hardly!”

“Okay, nobility, then.”

“You’ll be sleeping outside if you don’t – ”

“So what’s your title?”

“Oh, for – ”

“You’re not ashamed of it, I hope?” asked Elsie.

“Of course not,” said Lara. “I just…don’t want to be defined by something I never earned for myself.”

“Fair enough,” acknowledged the blonde. “So what is your title? Purely technically speaking, of course.”

A sigh. “TECHnically, I would be Countess of Abbington," stated the brunette. "But rest assured I never refer to myself as such.”

“I see,” said the blonde thoughtfully. “So…what would be the proper way to address you?”

A dark stare. “Lara.”

“Oh come on,” countered Elsie. “Just pretend you’re in a formal event, full regalia, a ball, say, with the Queen in attendance – ”

“I wouldn’t be there, I can promise you.”

“Just humour me,” insisted the blonde. “Say you were there and me, a little peasant girl, came up to you and – ”

“Guards!”

“ – and asked to speak, what would be the proper, Downton Abbey-esque way of addressing you?”

Lara chewed her lip. “Fine, if it’s that important to you,” she said slowly, “In a purely formal setting such as you described…I could be addressed as ‘Lady Croft’.”

“How very interesting.”

“Happy now?”

The two young women eyed each other, the blonde with a distinct impishness while her companion’s gaze exhibited a contrasting wariness.

Elsie couldn’t resist.

“So, my La – ”

“Don’t even think it!” blurted the brunette, punching the blonde in the shoulder for emphasis.

“Ow!” exclaimed the blonde, rubbing her shoulder painfully. “Now we see the violence inherent in the system!”

“Oh, belt up!”

“Help, help! I’m being repressed!”

“Bloody peasant!”

Elsie burst into laughter, Lara following an instant later. The blonde had never heard the Englishwoman laugh out loud so freely before -- she immediately noted it was a lovely sound that she sincerely hoped to hear more often.

"Okay, fine," said Elsie once her laughter subsided sufficiently. "You know I was just teasing...you'll always be plain old Lara to me."

"Thank you," replied the brunette with relief.

Elsie thought for a moment. "Well I guess not 'old'," she amended, "And definitely not 'plain', but...yeah."

The blonde slipped from the sleeping bag and scrambled over and behind her companion.

"Going somewhere?"

"Just getting comfortable," said Elsie as she slid back into the sleeping bag and cuddled up from behind until she was unabashedly spooning the brunette. She wrapped an arm around the archaeologist's midsection for good measure.

Lara sighed contentedly.

“I’m going to miss this,” said the blonde wistfully, resting her chin in the nook of Lara’s neck.

“I’ll second that,” sighed the Englishwoman.

“Still,” said Elsie, gently tucking Lara’s brown mane behind her ear, “We have a few days yet…let’s focus on that…”

“Hmm,” purred the archaeologist.

The American gently traced the outline of Lara’s ear before shifting her finger’s path to its inner shell, slowly retracing the delicate contours over and over, her digit moving with the purposefulness of a tiny shark slowly circling its prey.

She felt Lara’s body move slightly as the archaeologist suppressed a chuckle.

“Shilling for your thoughts?” asked Elsie, curious as to what her companion found amusing.

“Methinks you have an ear fetish,” accused the brunette, smiling dreamily.

“Nah,” said Elsie, grinning. “Well…okay, maybe just with yours…they’re so beautiful, Lara…”

“A couple of days ago they were ‘pretty’,” recited Lara. “Today they’re ‘beautiful’.”

“Oh, who am I kidding,” said the blonde, snaking a leg over and entwining it between the brunettes’. “They were always beautiful…like every freaking inch of you…”

She leaned closer and lightly blew into the Englishwoman’s ear: her friend’s body shuddered in response.

“Gods…” gasped the archaeologist.

Elsie tightened her hold around Lara’s firm midsection, marvelling at the deliciously soft mass of the archaeologist’s breasts squeezing against her arm.

She kissed the nape of Lara’s neck, the brunette’s ponytail tickling her nose.

“Mmm,” cooed the Englishwoman.

Elsie shifted her attention back to Lara’s exposed ear, licking her lips in anticipation of exploring the exquisite tunnel.

“We are going to have so much fun…”


	6. Chapter 6

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, a Tomb Raider Fanfic: Chapter 6

Elsie was no longer hiking – she was floating.

Elsie pushed through the brush, her feet barely touching the ground. If she’d had a modicum of talent she’d have been crooning sappy love songs to any bewildered fauna within earshot. She smiled serenely whenever a thorn pricked her, laughing off the barbs’ pitiful attempts at scuppering her mood.

She was happy.

Actually, happy was an understatement. Normally going with just four hours’ sleep would have left the blonde tired and grumpy, but the previous night had thoroughly energized her.

It had all led to a magical shared moment the following morning as she and Lara had huddled together and watched the sunrise gradually bake away the mists drifting up from the woodland lake, quietly basking in each other’s presence. They’d listened to distant haunting loon calls in silence, exhibiting the comfort of two souls not dependent on spoken words. Even the brunette seemed to have Zenned out since the previous evening, the blonde having caught the archaeologist absentmindedly dropping a tea bag into a cup she’d already spooned some of the Elsie’s instant coffee into – she had no idea what the resulting concoction must’ve tasted like, but the fact that the brunette drank it at all was telling.

They’d both been so in the clouds that they’d very nearly set off without their tent; the realization of which had sent both young women into embarrassed giggles.

Elsie had been practically waltzing through the wilds since.

It was with that faraway mindset that the blonde ran straight into a waist-high rock that had been concealed behind a bush.

“Oof!”

She staggered back, confused. She pushed the brush aside to reveal a roughly rectangular, slab like stone protruding from the ground. It was immediately apparent even to an archaeological neophyte that this was no natural formation: the stone had clearly been placed there.

Elsie drew closer, attracted by faint markings etched in the weathered stone surface. She drew her fingers over the scratches – she’d seen similar symbols before.

It hit her. The year before, curiosity had compelled her to look up the Ogham language Lara had once described.

She was staring at an Ogham stone.

_Shit!!_

She knew straight away if Lara saw it she would want to investigate, and all attempts at taking her mind off her work would instantly be derailed.

Rustling in the brush behind her: the brunette was getting close.

She ran back and intercepted the startled archaeologist. “Stop!”

Lara grasped her climbing axe and held it at the ready. “What is it??”

“Uh…nothing,” said the blonde, quickly adopting a less urgent tone at her friend’s tense demeanour. “We just…took a wrong turn.”

“A wrong turn?” asked Lara, frowning. “To where, exactly?”

“Um, poor choice of words,” amended Elsie. “There’s a…big drop off up ahead, it’s too steep to climb down…we should double back and look for another way…”

“Well, we have basic climbing gear,” said the brunette. “And a fair amount of rope, maybe we can rappel down…let’s have a look, shall we?”

She began to move around her companion.

“NO!” blurted Elsie, moving to block the archeologist’s progress.

Lara froze.

“Um…it’s a good two hundred foot drop at least,” she continued excitedly. “There’s just no way – ”

Lara folded her arms. “And a river full of alligators at the bottom, no doubt,” she said. “Care to tell me what’s really going on here, Elsie?”

Elsie’s heart was racing. “Um...I just…oh crap,” she said resignedly, placing her hand on the brunette’s. “Lara, just…go with me on this, okay?”

Lara’s eyes narrowed. “You found something,” she accused. “Didn’t you?”

Elsie’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, yeah,” she finally admitted, defeated. “But Lara…you came here to get a break from all that, remember?”

Lara’s mouth opened slightly.

“Please,” begged Elsie. “Trust me on this…”

“You're asking me to just...walk away?”

“Yes. I am. Please.”

Elsie clasped her hands together and gave the brunette her best pleading puppy-eyed look.

Lara sighed. “All right, Elsie,” she said unenthusiastically. “If it means that much to you…I’ll leave it be, whatever it is…”

“Thank you,” said Elsie, profoundly relieved. “It’s for the best, Lara…”

The brunette gave her an unconvincing smile. “Well…lead the way, then.”

Elsie bit her lip at her friend’s pained expression and started back down the way they’d come. She hadn’t gone ten paces when she stopped in her tracks, the archeologist almost bumping into her.

“Now what?”

“Dammit,” said the blonde in frustration. “I can’t do this…”

She turned to face the Englishwoman. “It’s in your blood, Lara…it’s going to gnaw at you the entire time we’re out here, isn’t it?”

Lara ran her hand through her hair. “Well, of course,” she admitted. “You’ve piqued my curiosity, Elsie, you can’t expect me not to wonder…”

“Come on,” said the blonde, taking Lara by the hand. "With any luck, maybe it's not that big a deal..."

"You're sure about this?" asked Lara as Elsie led her toward the stone marker.

"No," admitted the American. "But I'll hate myself if I don't..."

She brought her companion to the stone and drew back the bramble partly obscuring the carvings.

Lara's eyes lit up.

_Crap._

"I take it...it's significant?" asked the blonde.

"Elsie, do you know what this is?" countered the brunette breathlessly.

"It's one of those Ogham stones, right?"

"Well, yes, but so much more..."

The archaeologist wrapped her hand around the concealing brambles and effortlessly tore them from the ground roots and all, tossing the thorny branches aside.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Elsie, wincing. "Didn't that hurt??"

But Lara paid no mind, crouching down before the stone and brushing off centuries of accumulated dirt and muck.

"Look at this, Elsie," breathed the brunette, her voice taking on the slightly schoolgirlish tone whenever she was excited. "Classic Ogham script...definitely connected to our excavation last year..."

Elsie crouched next to her companion. "But that was a good thirty miles from here at least," said the blonde. "Are you saying this is another site?"

"It's possible," said the archaeologist. "The stones we found made reference to at least one other site in the interior."

Lara's fingers slowly traced the ancient symbols carved into the weathered surface.

"...repose...rightful king?"

"Huh?" asked the American.

"...three hundred...poles..."

"Okay I'm lost," said Elsie. "I thought you couldn't read that stuff?"

"I crammed Ogham when I got home last year," explained Lara, her eyes never deviating from the stone. "I'm no expert, but I can make out…enough of it to...bloody hell!"

She straightened up, Elsie following suit.

“What is it?” asked the blonde.

Lara stared into the woods ahead. “It’s here,” she said, her voice a bare whisper.

Elsie was becoming frustrated. “What’s here? Lara, can you clue me in, please? Layman here, remember?”

The brunette blinked and refocused her attention on her companion. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s whatever they’d come here for, Elsie, two millennia ago…it’s just three hundred rods due west of here.”

The American tilted her head. “Rods?”

“Rods, yes,” affirmed Lara. “It’s an ancient measuring unit, about five yards or so…”

Elsie did the math. Lara already had.

“Half a mile, Elsie,” said the archaeologist excitedly, a disbelieving smile creasing her features. “Can you believe it?? Oh, we’re so close…”

_Dammit…_

“Um…close to what, though?”

“Well…that’s the question,” replied the Englishwoman. “The inscription mentions something about the ‘rightful king’, or something to that effect.”

Elsie was trying to cram it all in. “What could that mean?”

“Only one way to find out,” said Lara eagerly, her face almost glowing with excitement. Though she was loathe to investigate further, it was hard not to get caught up in her friend’s excitement.

“Well…I guess we’ve come this far…”

Lara threw her arms around the blonde and drew her into a hug. “Thank you!”

“I get a feeling that trying to keep you away from a potential archaeological find would be like herding cats,” said Elsie, stroking her friend’s ponytail affectionately. “Frustrating as hell, and ultimately doomed to fail.”

“I’m not that bad, I hope,” said the brunette.

“Just…be careful, okay?”

Lara drew back and smiled at her friend. “Always.”

“Uh-huh,” said the blonde dubiously.

 

-oOo-

 

“Okay, but what happened to your dig from last year?” asked the American as they trudged through the brush. “Didn’t anyone follow up?”

“Nothing,” replied Lara, holding back a branch so that it didn’t whip back onto her companion. “With Beacham gone, no one was willing to take our work seriously. Claimed our stones were nothing but elaborate forgeries and hadn’t been taken in situ. Bunch of duffers. The fact that the entire team save myself was killed didn’t help to attract new investment, either.”

“But what about those Trinity dudes?” countered the blonde. “Didn’t the authorities charge them?”

“They disappeared, Elsie,” said the brunette. “As they tend to do…it was all I could do to convince your constabulary that I hadn’t been the one that murdered the research team…”

“Shit.”

“Indeed.”

“So if – “

Lara stopped in her tracks.

“This is it,” she said.

Elsie drew alongside her friend. From her vantage point they were standing near the base of a small tree-covered hill. There were no artificial structures visible anywhere.

“Um…care to educate me?”

“Right there,” said the brunette, pointing to the small hill before them. “Incredible…”

“Wow,” said Elsie, strangely disappointed considering she hadn’t wanted Lara to be distracted by a potential archaeological site in the first place. “It’s a…hill.”

Lara looked at her. “Don’t be blinkered,” she said. “Look!”

“It’s a…pretty hill, I guess,” ventured the blonde. “Sorry Lara, I just don’t see it!”

The brunette moved behind the blonde, pointing her hand over her shoulder to direct her gaze. “Right there,” said the archaeologist, pointing to a massive boulder embedded in the hillside. “See?”

“A rock,” said Elsie neutrally. “Oh. My. God. Mom will never believe this.”

An exasperated sigh. “Okay,” said Lara. “My fault. You've never been to Britain I take it?"

Elsie shook her head. "New Zealand, Australia and Canada," she answered. "That's it."

"Well, these sorts of mounds are scattered throughout the British Isles," explained Lara.

"Oh, so you guys have hills too?"

"It's manmade, Elsie!" stated the brunette, exasperated. "It's not a hill, it's a chambered tomb!"

Elsie looked back to the unremarkable knoll before them. "How can you possibly tell that?"

"It's a classic shape," explained the archaeologist as she made her way towards the massive boulder. "The way the sides angle off uniformly at ground level, a natural hill would have a more graduated slope, and show much more variation. The overall symmetry of the place, no aberrations whatsoever...and of course the portal stone."

"Okay," said the American. "Let's say you're right, and the thing is manmade...what do you suggest we do about it?"

"We investigate, of course!" said Lara excitedly. "Elsie, this shouldn't even be here. And there's a definite inconsistency with this structure and the settlement we found last year, but I have to think they’re related somehow."

Elsie scratched her ear. "What do you mean?"

"These sorts of mounds are classic Neolithic structures," continued the brunette as she approached the massive stone and cleaned off accumulated dirt from its surface. "Yet the settlement east of here was clearly Iron Age. That's about a thousand year gap at minimum, why would they build something that even to them would have been considered obsolete? Oh, look at this..."

The blonde moved closer. The stone had several Ogham symbols carved into its centre.

"Okay, I'm sold," said Elsie. "Manmade, all right. But Lara, how are we supposed to 'investigate'? It's not like we're equipped for it, are we? We don’t even have a shovel, and we'll never budge that stone – that thing’s got to be a good twenty tons or more!"

But Lara wasn't paying attention; instead her unblinking gaze was riveted to the ancient symbols as her fingers slowly trailed along the weathered carvings.

"Paging Lara Croft…hello? Attention K-Mart shoppers…"

The brunette slowly shook her head. "I'm having trouble reading this," she said softly. "I think it...it requires something to allow entry...but what..."

"What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?" asked the blonde.

Lara finally broke from the stone long enough to look at her. "What?"

"Sorry," replied Elsie, stifling a smile. "Just...kinda feels like we're trying to get into Moria here..."

Far from drawing a rebuke from the archaeologist, the blonde was surprised to see Lara's eyebrows rise.

"No," said the Englishwoman, turning her gaze back to the stone. "Not Moria. But...I wonder..."

"Lara?"

"There are a few words I can make out," continued the archaeologist. "But I need to make sense of it all...'king'...something...'stone'...’rule?’…"

She looked to her friend. "Does that make any sense to you?"

Elsie shook her head disbelievingly. "You're asking me??"

“European Iron Age isn’t exactly my specialty,” stated Lara with frustration.

“Well it’s hardly mine!” said the blonde. “Look, it says something about the king of stone, right?”

“That’s very literal,” countered the archaeologist. “It could just as easily be ‘stone of kings’, or – "

The brunette fell silent.

“What?” asked Elsie.

“Stone of Kings,” mulled Lara softly. “I wonder…”

“You know, you really need to voice out your thought bubbles.”

“Sorry,” breathed the Englishwoman. “But…there is a ‘Stone of Kings’ of sorts in Ireland…on the Hill of Tara in county Meath. I’ve even touched it once, on an outing with my father.”

“And you think that’s a connection?” posed Elsie.

Lara drew back from the boulder. “Its proper name is the ‘Stone of Destiny’,” she explained. “Legend held that a prospective ruler would only have to touch the Stone to determine his rightful claim to the kingship of Ireland; if he was the true king, the Stone would roar, if not, it would remain silent.”

“So apparently you’re unfit for Irish kingship,” declared the blonde. “I think I’d prefer that to the freaking two year-long presidential elections we have here…”

Lara turned her attention back to the boulder and ran her hand over the inscriptions.

“Stone of Destiny,” she said softly. “My Gaelic is so rusty, Grim would box my ears if he were here…Lia…”

“Who?”

“Not ‘who’,” said the brunette. “Oh, bloody hell…”

“Too bad we don’t have cell coverage out here,” said Elsie, looking up at the sky. “We could just Google it – ”

Lara snapped her fingers. “Lia Fáil!”

“Gesundheit.”

The ground shook. Elsie jumped back nervously. “What the hell?”

The blonde’s eyes grew wide as she watched the boulder slowly roll off to one side as though guided by a giant invisible hand, revealing a darkened passage beyond.

“Holy crap!! Did…did I just see that??”

Lara shifted impatiently.

“Down the rabbit hole…”


	7. Chapter 7

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, a Tomb Raider Fanfic: Chapter 7

The two young women peered into the darkness: one filled with excitement, the other with trepidation.

"Okaaayyy," said Elsie slowly, "Explain to me what just happened? How'd that honking huge rock just move by itself??"

"Welcome to my world, Elsie," said Lara, cupping a hand to the blonde's shoulder. "Sometimes you just have to accept the impossible..."

“That’s fucking right out of a movie, Lara,” swore the American. “This is some crazy-assed shit…”

Elsie continued to gaze into the darkened entryway, unmoving. She could hardly believe what she'd just seen: while she'd always considered herself an open-minded sort, witnessing the impossible had shaken her. Her sensible half demanded a reckoning; imagination and reason brawled for dominance.

"Hey," said Lara, concern evident in her voice as she squeezed the blonde's shoulder. "You okay? You look a bit pale...I mean more so than usual…"

The American nodded slowly. "Yeah," she finally breathed. "Just...trying to wrap my mind around all this..."

"Maybe you should wait here," suggested the brunette.

"Huh?" voiced the blonde. "You're not thinking of going in there, I hope?"

Lara unstrapped her backpack and dropped it to the ground. "Herding cats," she said with a smile.

Elsie's anxiety grew threefold. "Jeezus, Lara," she said worriedly. "What if...what if that thing collapses in on top of you??"

Lara drew her torch out of the pack and straightened up. "That's always a possibility, I suppose," she admitted, brushing a stray lock from her face. "But it seems to have held up for two millennia; so long as I don’t disturb anything I should be fine."

The archaeologist flicked on her lamp and shone it down the dark passageway. Elsie watched with growing nervousness as the light revealed stone-lined walls supporting equally massive stone lintels above.

The passage faded into ominous obscurity in the distance.

"See?" said Lara, patting the near stone wall. "Perfectly sound construction."

She took a step into the entryway.

Elsie caught sight of movement in the nearby trees; a large stag had emerged from a thicket, observing her with disquieting interest. Normally the blonde would have been thrilled at such an encounter, but in her current circumstances and with the very air seeming to press inward, the animal’s odd stare unnerved her.

"Ohhhhh, wait for me," said the blonde plaintively as she removed her pack and drew her own flashlight.

The brunette paused to look back. "You don't have to do this, Elsie," she said. "Don’t worry about me, I'm a big girl."

"I'll be damned if I let you go in there by yourself," replied the blonde. "But if we get flattened by a rock I'm holding you personally responsible."

Lara smiled. "Fair enough."

Elsie joined her companion at the entrance. The ceiling was low, Lara being fractionally closer to it than the blonde; they could fit inside without crouching, but only just. The narrow construction also meant they had to go single file, Lara taking the lead.

The air within was stale. Elsie noted there wasn’t so much as a single cobweb lining the nooks of the walls or ceiling. The place had evidently been exceedingly well-sealed.

There was a slight downward slope to the passageway; the sensation that they were gradually moving into the Earth only heightened the blonde's apprehension.

Lara stopped ahead of her.

"Did you hear that?" whispered the brunette.

Elsie froze. Heart racing, she strained her ears.

"What??" she squeaked.

A pause. "Maybe it was nothing."

Elsie swore under her breath.

Lara looked back over her shoulder, smiled and winked.

"Oh...fudge nuggets!" blurted the blonde, shoving her companion in the back. "Don't _do_ that!!"

They pressed on, Elsie trying to decide if she should be irritated or grateful for her friend’s apparent fearlessness. But then, the brunette was in her element, while she most definitely wasn’t.

She wondered just how far the passageway ran for: she estimated their current distance from the entrance at roughly two hundred feet. She’d never been claustrophobic, but the walls seemed to be closing in the further they went – whether it was an optical illusion or a manifestation of her anxiety, she couldn’t be sure.

"This is massive," said Lara from in front, her voice filled with wonder. "This might be larger than West Kennet Long Barrow, Elsie..."

"Imagine that," said the blonde unenthusiastically.

"Hold on," said Lara. "Something up ahead..."

Elsie's heart jumped. "You better not be joking -- "

"No, look."

The American drew close and peered cautiously over her friend's shoulder.

Ahead lay what appeared to be a large chamber, the glow from their flashlights casting confusing shadows within. At least nothing seemed to be moving inside, noted Elsie with relief.

"Almost there, Elsie," said the archaeologist as she moved forward.

"Here be dragons," whispered the blonde.

They emerged into a large circular chamber capped with a towering corbeled-vaulted ceiling that rose a good twenty feet above the floor. The room was possibly sixty feet in diameter or more, large enough that the far side remained predominantly in shadow.

But what drew their immediate attention was an impossibly ornate tapered stone approximately seven feet in height and perfectly dressed, dominating the centre of the structure. Elsie’s eye fell on the innumerable elaborate designs on its surface which she recognized as incredibly complex and intricate examples of Celtic knot work, flawlessly chiseled in stone. The beauty and workmanship of the carvings astonished her.

"What is this?" she asked softly as she approached the monolith, her curiosity temporarily overriding her apprehension.

"Incredible isn’t it?" answered the brunette. “Just look at this place…I’ve never heard of a corbelled ceiling covering a structure this large. Just the architecture alone would be worthy of -- Elsie, look at the walls.”

The blonde directed her flashlight to where Lara was focusing hers: glittering metal reflected their lights back at them. The two women slowly approached, the gleaming metal slowly coalescing into a large circular object: a highly polished and decorated bronze shield, with two spears crossed behind and pointing upwards at an angle approximately fourty-five degrees apart.

“Wowzers,” breathed the American.

Lara traced her fingers around the shield’s embossed rim. “Tell me your secrets,” she whispered in awe.

Many other shields lined the walls, all backed by a pair of crossed weapons. Each shield was of a different colour and design, fading off into the darkness at the rear of the chamber. “Well, it’s definitely Iron Age, at least,” concluded the archaeologist. “This couldn’t possibly be Neolithic…”

The blonde looked to her friend. “I hate to admit it, but…I’m starting to understand what you see in this stuff.”

The brunette smiled back. “Hard not to get excited, isn’t it?”

“Okay, fine,” admitted Elsie. “It’s just…to think no one has seen these things in two thousand years…”

“That’s my girl.”

“I’m wondering though, why do all these shields look so different?”

Lara examined the circular one they’d first observed; its polished surface was embossed with elaborate Celtic knot work around its rim, the centre dominated by a stylized dragon. Another shield to its left was oval-shaped, with two poleaxes crossed behind; it brandished a boar as its central motif. Another further down was lozenge-shaped, with dual swords hung on the wall behind; its central design a representation of a bear.

“These are clan symbols,” explained Lara, lightly tracing her fingers across the shield’s embossed features. Its condition was exquisite, almost as though it had been placed there only days before. “I recognize some of these…Munster…Connaught…these are Irish, Elsie.”

“Irish? I thought the clans were Scottish?”

Lara nodded. “They were, but Iron Age Ireland was very similar, for centuries it was a conglomerate of small kingdoms,” she explained. “These must be their crests, I’m almost certain of it…”  
“Why here though?” asked the blonde. “Shouldn’t this be in Ireland?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” agreed Lara.

They continued along the circular wall, taking note of the various displayed shields and accompanying weapons.

Elsie stepped on something hard, the crunch echoing loudly in the tomblike silence.

“The hell…?”

She took a quick step back and shone her light on the ground.

“Oh, _FUCK!!_ ”

Hidden behind the stone menhir, and splayed out on the ground before them, was a long dried-out corpse.

“ _Shitshitshit!_ ” wailed Elsie. Lara quickly pulled the blonde back and interposed herself between the American and the object of her horror.

"Look at me," said the brunette, staring directly into the American's terrified eyes. "Elsie, you're hyperventilating, focus on me, focus on my voice -- "

She wrapped herself around Elsie protectively, cradling the blonde's head against her shoulder.

"You're okay," cooed the brunette soothingly as she gently stroked her companion's hair. "You're okay, Elsie...it's all right...you're safe..."

"Lara," gasped Elsie in between ragged breaths, "What...is that??"

"I don't know," said the archaeologist softly. "I'll figure it out later...let's get you outside, okay?"

The blonde pulled out of Lara's embrace. "No," she said hoarsely. "I need to…man up about this..."

Lara looked at her with concern. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," swallowed the blonde, putting on an unconvincing smile for her friend's sake. "Just…not used to this shit, you know?"

Her gaze focused above and behind her friend's shoulder, her grey eyes swelling in alarm.

"LARA!!"

The archaeologist whirled around, axe held high.

On a raised dais along the chamber’s back wall sat an ancient helmeted skeletal figure: clad in remnant rags of once rich clothing, it was festooned with the brilliant gold torque, sword and enameled jewelry of a Celtic king.

“It’s okay!” asserted Lara quickly. “He’s…quite dead too…”

“What the fuck, Lara? What the hell is this place?” lamented the blonde, taking a step back and glancing anxiously about her.

“I don’t have an answer for you, Elsie,” said the brunette, gazing at the seated figure. “Not yet, anyway…”

Lara turned her attention to the sprawled figure on the floor, it being their more pressing concern; the man had clearly been dead for years, perhaps even decades, but from his clothing and accoutrements he was obviously not contemporary with the rest of the structure. In one skeletal hand the corpse clutched an old style torch, laying on the floor inches from the other bony fingers was an old canteen.

The brunette knelt down and gingerly went through the man’s clothing, Elsie looking on nervously. Reaching inside the man’s coat, the archaeologist pulled out a crackling leather wallet.

“James Forrestal,” said Lara softly, going through the aged papers within. “Yank…born eighteen eighty-nine in Baltimore…money has issue dates in the twenties and thirties…he must’ve died roughly seventy or so years ago…”

“Lara…” said Elsie nervously, “What killed him? Why’d he die in here?”

The Englishwoman looked up to her friend, her expression doing nothing to soothe the blonde. “That’s a very good question,” said the brunette. “There are no obvious signs of trauma...”

“If he can die in here so can we,” warned the blonde. “Can we just get out of here, please?”

To her surprise, the brunette nodded with a sigh. “All right,” she said, getting up from the long deceased Forrestal. “There’s not much else we can do here for the moment, anyway…you brought your phone, yes?”

The American reached into her trouser pocket. “But there’s no service – “

“I just need the camera,” said the Englishwoman. “Let me just take some snaps of this place; that way we’ll have irrefutable proof, they’ll have no choice now but to take it seriously. Then we’ll go, all right?”

Elsie unlocked her phone and handed it to her companion, intensely relieved at her companion’s decision. “Okay…thanks, Lara…”

Lara smiled at her reassuringly and began taking snapshots of the chamber, the flash being particularly harsh in the confined blackness. Elsie moved to the central stone monolith. She trailed her fingers along the exquisite knot work, the impossibly complex patterns beguiling her.

“Lara…could this be something like that ‘Stone of Destiny’ you were talking about?”

“The thought had occurred to me,” said the brunette as she continued to move about the structure. “Or…and I have no evidence for this…it might be the real Stone – the one in Ireland might simply have been a convenient substitute to throw off those who might seek to steal or destroy it.”

“But why bring it here -- ?”

“Think of the timeline, Elsie,” continued the archaeologist, moving to take a photograph of the seated skeletal figure. “This structure is roughly contemporary with the Roman invasion of Britain…it wouldn’t be much for the builders to fear Ireland might be next…”

Elsie turned her attention back to the monolith, her hand sliding across its carved surface. If Lara’s theory was right, they’d just stumbled across a major archaeological find of historic significance. 

“Guess I’m not King material either…” she whispered.

A barely audible rumbling permeated the chamber, the vibrations carrying through to the ground beneath their feet. Elsie snapped her hand back, the deep rumbling continuing unabated.

“That wasn’t me!” she blurted. “Shit, maybe it was…oh, please tell me I had nothing to do with that…”

Lara dashed to her side. “What’d you do?”

“I barely touched it,” said the blonde, indicating the carved menhir. “That couldn’t be me, could it? It’s not like I pushed a button or tripped a lever or anything…oh God…”

A moment later the rumbling abruptly ceased.

The two young women stood absolutely still and waited anxiously.

“Well…so far so good,” ventured Elsie with relief after several moments of silence. “Maybe it was just a small quake -- ”

She was pulled back violently by her companion, nearly losing her balance as she plowed awkwardly into the brunette. “Lara, what the hell – “

Then she saw it.

The supposedly ‘dead’ Celtic king was standing upright on its dais, its empty eye sockets trained directly on them.


	8. Chapter 8

IN THE TIME WE HAVE: Chapter 8

"GO!!" barked Lara, shoving Elsie toward the passageway. The blonde needed no persuading - she sprinted down the narrow stone-lined corridor in a near panic, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the Englishwoman was following. She plunged ahead, desperate for the promise of light beckoning at the entrance.

Elsie’s heart filled with dread as they approached the entryway – even taking into account for the corridor’s gradual slope, the glow from outside should’ve been visible by now.

_No…_

She slid to a stop as the beam from her flashlight fell upon the back of the massive capstone, now resolutely sealing the entrance.

“FUCK!!”

She spun around as Lara skidded to a stop, the archeologist’s brown eyes wide with alarm.

“Lia Fáil!”

The boulder did as boulders generally do, and remained stubbornly unmoving.

“This isn’t good,” breathed the brunette.

“Gee, you think?!”

The two women scanned the walls and ceiling with their torches – there wasn’t so much as a gap in which to try and pry a slab loose. And even if there had been, the tunnel’s construction was entirely interlocked, such that successfully removing any one stone would cause the structure to collapse, there being nothing beyond but tons of packed earth. At least there was no sign of life – or death - approaching from the direction of the chamber, Elsie noted with relief.

“Please tell me you have some trick up your sleeve to get us out of here,” pleaded the blonde.

She was now arriving at a very grim theory as to how Forrestal might’ve perished: slow starvation. Elsie was no stranger to it -- she’d very nearly succumbed to its deadly embrace as a misguided coping mechanism during the agony of her youth. But if they found no escape, it would now be imposed as a permanent condition of her imprisonment. As it would with Lara.

“Wait here,” said the brunette. “I’m going to go back – ”

“We don’t split up!” said the American, aghast. “Cripes Lara, haven’t you watched enough horror movies?”

“You saw that thing in there – ”

“We stick together!” proclaimed the blonde.

Lara clenched her jaw. Elsie gave the brunette a look of determination, hoping that her underlying terror didn’t seep through too noticeably.

“This is not a good idea,” said the archaeologist. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with…”

Elsie pulled out her pocketknife. “If you die at the hands of that thing,” she lamented, “What chance do you think I’m going to have?”

“Elsie – ”

The American caressed the brunette’s cheek. “I know you’re trying to keep me out of harm’s way,” she said. "And I appreciate that, really. But there’s no point here…we go together, okay?”

Lara sighed. Elsie knew she’d won the point, the dubious prize a potential confrontation with the horrifying creature in the central chamber. She tried consoling herself that if they could find no way out of their predicament, a quick death would be infinitely preferable to the alternative.

The two friends slowly made their way down the corridor, stopping at intervals to listen for any movement up ahead.

Lara re-entered the chamber with her climbing axe at the ready; Elsie followed closely, holding her pocketknife with something less than full confidence.

There was no sign of the ‘Skeleton King’, which both relieved and worried the blonde. Lara moved slowly along the left wall, the American virtually on her heels.

Elsie cringed as they crept; every step they took seemed to reverberate loudly in the tomblike silence.

Lara stopped. Her torch was aimed at the skeletal figure on the far wall, who was once again seated on his stone throne atop the dais directly behind the stone.

“I think…he’s reset,” said the brunette softly.

“What do you mean, ‘reset’?”

The archaeologist cautiously approached the seated figure, holding her axe aloft in a strike position. She waved a hand before its empty sockets.

Nothing.

Lara relaxed visibly. “It reacted to your touching the stone,” she stated as she hitched her axe to her belt. “Let’s not try that again, shall we?”

Elsie edged slightly closer, her nervousness lingering but comforted by her companion’s self-assuredness. “You mean…it’s like a guardian?”

“It would seem so.”

Elsie ran her hands back through her hair. “But…what makes it move?” she asked, feeling utterly confounded. “Fuck, this is impossible…”

“I told you, Elsie,” said Lara gently, “There are powers out there beyond our understanding…I’m so sorry you had to experience this…”

The American flopped down heavily against the wall. “Yeah…well…looks like we’re going to be the next permanent addition to this archaeological find,” she said dispiritedly.

The Englishwoman slid down to the floor next to her companion. “Hey, we’ll get out of this,” she said soothingly, stroking the blonde’s hair. “This isn’t exactly my first pickle…”

“Try telling that to him,” said Elsie, waving her hand in the direction of the long-deceased Forrestal. She drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face in her limbs. “I really don’t want to die here, Lara...Mom won’t even know what happened to me…she…she’ll…”

“Elsie…I kind of need you right now,” said Lara.

The American looked up to her friend, surprised.

“Me…but…what can I do?" choked the blonde.

“We need to figure something out,” explained the brunette. “And sooner than later, before our torches run down.”

The realization hit Elsie: aside from their flashlights, they had no other source of illumination -- once their batteries were depleted, the two women would be forever plunged in permanent, unrelenting darkness. A blackness that would bring with it unrelenting terrors for the blonde.

She shuddered at the thought. “Shit…”

Lara gave her a sympathetic look – the Englishwoman understood all too well.

“We’re a bit pressed for time…”

The blonde scrambled to her feet, Lara following suit.

“Time to man-up, right?” said the American, wiping her eyes and giving Lara a nervous smile.

Lara smiled back. “You have more guts than you know, Elsie,” she said softly.

“I…don't know about that...”

“Come on,” said the brunette, leading her companion near the central stone.

Elsie eyed the seated figure anxiously. Though seemingly oblivious to their presence for the moment, she knew that it could be a very temporary state of affairs.

“The capstone moved on two occasions,” postulated Lara. “Once when I pronounced the Stone of Destiny’s Gaelic name, and once again when you touched the stone In here. Ideas?”

“I don’t think touching this thing again would do much good,” opined the blonde, gesturing at the central monolith. “Have to figure that Forrestal dude must’ve tried that before the end, right?”

“Agreed,” said Lara.

“Hang on,” said Elsie. “We got all these weapons lined up on these walls, maybe we could we use them for…um…”

“Yes?”

Elsie sighed. “Forget it,” she finally said. “I don’t know where I was even going with that...”

“Actually…”

The brunette strode to the near wall and unhooked one of the shields. She grasped one of the crossed swords behind and handed it to the blonde.

“This’ll do a bit better than your pocketknife,” said Lara. “If it should come down to a fight…”

"Let's hope not, okay," replied the American, awkwardly hefting the ancient sword. “Not exactly Xena here…”

Lara turned her attention to the central stone. “You know, it might be a bit of a longshot,” she ventured, “But the other effect was the animation of Bones O’Toole over there…”

“Please tell me we’re not bringing that thing back to life,” said Elsie, horrified.

“I wouldn’t call it exactly…alive,” mused the brunette. “But I wonder if it’s possible to communicate with it.”

Elsie gaped at the Englishwoman. “With that thing??”

“If it doesn’t work we can run down the hall again,” explained Lara. “My guess is that it resets whenever the perceived threat to the stone leaves the central chamber.”

“But…would it even understand English?”

“Doubtful,” conceded the archaeologist. “I’ll try Gaelic…”

“Your rusty Gaelic,” amended Elsie. “What if you call him a banana, or insult his mother, or – ”

“It’s not quite that rusty.”

“And what would you tell it, exactly?” continued the blonde. “That we haven’t come for the Stone, and we’ll leave it be if he’ll just let us out, pretty please?”

“It might just be that simple,” shrugged Lara. “Anyway, at the moment it’s all I have. It can’t hurt to try, can it?”

“It might!” answered Elsie. “But…honestly, I got nothing better, so…”

Lara moved to a position between the central stone and the seated figure. “Right then...stand back,” she warned.

Elsie scampered to a position behind the pillar, holding the unfamiliar sword before her.

Lara pressed her hand against the stone.

For several moments it seemed as though nothing might happen; finally, the seated figure twitched and slowly began to rise from its seat.

“Nach bhfuil…muid ag iarraidh…an chloch,” said Lara. “Is…mian linn ach…a fhágáil.”

The figure turned its fleshless skull, its black sockets focusing on the archaeologist.

It stepped off the dais, Elsie noting a dark shadow looming behind its seat. She blinked, unsure if she was witnessing some shadow play from the creature, or –

The figure drew its sword.

“Not good!” cried the blonde, her pulse racing as Lara scrambled back.

“I gceist againn aon dochar!” said the brunette, holding her axe at the ready.

Elsie suddenly became light headed. Colour vanished from her sight, everything became hues of grey, the smell of incense inexplicably permeating her nostrils. Her feet felt as though she were walking barefoot on grass. She found herself approaching Lara from behind, the brunette still addressing the skeletal figure – strangely, Elsie now understood the words, though the archaeologist’s voice sounded oddly muffled, as though she were speaking into a pillow.

Elsie tried to bring herself to a halt, but her legs were moving of their own accord. Her sword arm began to raise –

_No!!_

She opened her mouth to warn her friend but found herself unable to articulate, gasping like a fish out of water.

The brunette was oblivious. Elsie desperately tried to lower her sword arm, or even release her grip on the weapon, to no avail. Another step, and the archaeologist was almost within reach.

Elsie frantically fought to cease her forward progress but it was as though her body were being manipulated by invisible strings. Her eyes focused on the back of her companion's slender neck.

Panicking, she channeled every iota of will into a single vocalization.

“ _LARA!!_ ”

The brunette spun around, managing to deflect the sword blow with her axe, and in the same motion hooked the ancient weapon from Elsie’s grasp. The clang of metal on stone echoed through the chamber.

Elsie’s world spun wildly; the stone floor struck her violently on the side of the head, which strangely inflicted no pain. A moment later she had a sensation of being forcibly moved, bouncing up and down in rapid succession over some distance until finally coming to a rest.

Elsie’s voluntary motor functions and self-awareness slowly began to return, along with a painful throbbing from her left temple. She found herself sitting on the floor in the corridor, propped up against the wall.

“La…Lara?”

The brunette was crouched before her, looking down at her companion, brown eyes filled with worry.

“Are you okay?”

The blonde drew herself into a straighter sitting position. “I think so," she said, rubbing the side of her face. She looked at her companion guiltily. "Lara, I’m so sorry...I'd never forgive myself if I'd -- ”

“That wasn’t your doing,” interjected the archaeologist. “That thing obviously took control of you somehow…”

Elsie looked at her trembling hands as though they belonged to a stranger, wondering if she could ever trust them again. “I could see everything I was doing,” she explained shakily. "But it felt like I wasn’t...entirely here...and I just couldn't stop myself..."

"You fought it, Elsie," said the brunette. "You were able to warn me...you did good."

“Did good?” asked the American disbelievingly. “Lara, I nearly killed you!”

“But you didn’t,” countered the Englishwoman. She put a comforting hand on Elsie’s shoulder. “I think had it been almost anyone else…I might not have been so fortunate.”

The blonde shuddered. She distinctly recalled every fibre of her being screaming at herself; the prospect of her friend dying at her own hands had strengthened her force of will sufficiently to interrupt the mysterious force controlling her, if just for a second. But it had been too close.

She determined she would not lay her hands on a weapon again. Even if it meant her own death.

She looked down the corridor. "I guess you were right,” she said tiredly. “Looks like it’s still back there…"

Lara nodded. "It’s consistent, at least," stated the brunette.

The American looked to her friend. "Didn't listen to reason, did it?"

"I’d say not," replied Lara solemnly. "I have to confess I'm at a bit of a loss at the moment. I can try to destroy it, but I doubt that would help our situation…if only we had our packs -- "

A thought occurred to Elsie. "Lara…there might be another way out," she voiced. "I think there's some sort of recessed alcove behind that skeleton dude. I noticed it when it stepped off its platform -- it might be another tunnel…”

Lara grasped the American by the shoulders and looked intently into her eyes. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"There's something there," affirmed the blonde. "It’s small, whatever it is, we’d have to crawl, and there’s no telling where it might lead…but it's got to be worth a try, no?"

"It’s a better alternative than staying here," agreed the brunette. "Are you game for another go?"

Elsie nodded and pushed herself to her feet. "Do we have a plan?"

Lara thought. "I'll hug the wall next to the dais," she said, hefting her axe. "When you touch the stone and it steps forward, I'll strike it from behind -- hopefully it'll buy us a few seconds to get through there. And Elsie, we might only have seconds, if that thing should get control of me this time..."

Elsie swallowed at the thought. She knew she'd have no chance in a physical confrontation with the archaeologist, unwilling or not.

"Let's blow this freaking popsicle stand, okay," said the American. Lara leaned forward and touched her brow to her companion’s.

“We’ll get out of here, Elsie,” she whispered. “I promise.”

They made their way back to the central chamber, the blonde picking up her dropped flashlight from the floor. As Lara had surmised, the 'Skeleton King' was once again seated upon its dais at the rear of the chamber and seemed to be paying them no mind.

The two women moved cautiously to the rear of the chamber and shone their lights behind the seated figure. Elsie was heartened to see she hadn't imagined it -- there definitely was a small crawlspace leading into the darkness, but it had been almost entirely obscured by the seated figure. Where it led, of course, was still a mystery.

Lara grasped a hefty mace from the opposite wall and made her way next the seated figure, hugging the back wall. Elsie moved the central pillar and looked to her friend, her heart racing -- terror was something she’d become all too familiar with, but there was no getting used to it. She wondered how her friend managed.

Her eyes met Lara's. The brunette nodded.

Elsie slapped her palm against the stone. Again, a few moments elapsed before the figure slowly started to rise.

“Jeesus,” swore the American, her grey eyes wide. “Make it count, Lara…please make it count…”

The figure stepped off the dais and drew its sword. Lara swung.

There was a sickening crunch as the skeletal figure fell forward. Elsie was already moving, jumping out of the reach of an outstretched skeletal hand before joining Lara on the semicircular steps. They got down on hands and knees and scampered into the narrow corridor as quickly as the tight confines permitted, the hard stone bruising their knees and elbows.

The corridor was a virtual copycat of the entryway, only in miniature. They'd barely travelled twenty yards when they came up to a wall of jumbled stonework.

"Shit!" both women swore at once.

Lara squeezed by Elsie and began to hack at the stones with her climbing axe, the blonde keeping a nervous eye down to corridor for any sign of the guardian.

A rumble. “Get back!” cried Lara.

The damaged remains of the wall crumbled into the tunnel. A faint glimmer of light shone ahead.

Lara hacked at a few remaining stones and pulled them out of their ancient nooks. She grabbed Elsie and fairly threw her into the tiny opening. “Go!”

The blonde crawled through rubble, crumbling earth and roots, the gap in the stones barely wide enough to allow her willowy form through even with considerable effort. Finally scampering out into the reassuring light of the forest, she turned around to help extract her companion, the brunette’s hips momentarily getting stuck in the narrow opening.

“Shit!”

Elsie grabbed her hand and pulled. “Come on, Tinkerbell – “

A few desperate kicks, and she was through. A moment later both young women found themselves sprawled against the side of the hill, exhausted and filthy.

The two looked at each other, panting hard.

And began to laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

IN THE TIME WE HAVE: Chapter 9

Elsie recognized the escarpment up ahead -- they’d followed its base shortly after setting out five days previously. The road where she’d parked the car would soon come within view.

The blonde was now seriously dreading the end of their hike; for one, it meant that Lara would undoubtedly be heavily engaged in all things archaeological in order to document their historic find in the little time remaining to her.

Okay, it had been a cool find, admitted the American grudgingly, if a rather terrifying one. They’d be rewriting history, after all. She found herself wondering how the scholarly types might explain the moving entrance stone, never mind the chamber’s skeletal guardian.

 _So much for taking Lara’s mind off things_ , mused Elsie sadly.

But all was overshadowed by the knowledge that she’d soon be bidding farewell to her friend. A farewell that she feared could well be permanent.

She kicked a rock dismally.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” said Lara softly. “Don’t be so down…”

The blonde stopped and cocked her head at her friend. “Am I that obvious?”

“A little, yes,” answered the brunette. “Please don’t think we’ll never see each other again, okay?”

Elsie smiled sadly. “Lara…you and I both know this was an aberration,” she countered. “You taking a holiday, there’ll probably be people living on Mars by the time you take another – ”

“Only if you never invite me,” said Lara, smiling.

Elsie blinked. “But…I thought…really?”

The brunette drew close. “I can’t tell you when, Elsie,” she said. “But I promise you I’ll be back one day.” She wrapped her arms around the blonde’s waist. “I know what I have here…”

Elsie felt a surge of energy course through her, tickling the back of her neck. Dare she hope?

“But…Sam…”

“It doesn’t change anything,” clarified Lara. “I love her, Elsie, and I always will. Sam might be a bit…possessive sometimes, but I think she’ll understand this…”

“You’ll tell her, then?”

“Yes,” said Lara. Her expression turned contemplative. “But…I think she already suspected…”

Elsie’s breath caught in her throat. “Wha—what?”

Lara shrugged. “Something she mentioned when she first suggested I holiday with you.”

“That was…her idea?” asked the American incredulously. “But I don’t understand, if she thought I…”

Lara tightened her hold around the blonde’s waist. “When I got home from Maine last year she told me she felt she had her ‘old Lara’ back,” said the brunette. “At least for a time, anyway.”

She smiled at the American. “She said you were good for me.”

“Really?” breathed the blonde, her heart surging.

Lara nodded slowly. “I think we’re good.”

“Gotta love that Sam,” said Elsie, wrapping her arms around the brunette’s neck and shoulders. She slowly nuzzled her way up the slender column of the Englishwoman’s throat, planting delicate kisses as she went.

The brunette purred, raising her face skyward as she closed her eyes, the blonde’s gentle pecks following the underside of Lara’s jawline.

“So beautiful,” cooed Elsie, slowly moving her kisses up Lara’s cheek, pausing on the fresh gash extending along her friend’s cheekbone. She gently licked along the tear in the skin, the faint sweet-salty taste of blood permeating her mouth.

Her friend was delicious.

She increased the pressure and pointed her tongue, the tip pushing into the broken skin and widening the tear –

“Ow!” exclaimed Lara, abruptly pulling back and staring at the blonde in shock as she pressed her hand against the now painful and freshly bleeding gash. “Bloody hell, Elsie!”

The two stared at each other in silence for several moments, the brunette’s shocked expression slowly transforming into one of bemusement.

“You little vamp...!”

Elsie smiled sheepishly. “You taste so good, Lara,” she whispered, drawing closer. “Here, let me show you…”

She pressed her lips to the brunette’s.

 

-oOo-

 

Elsie could see the woods thinning up ahead. She caught a glimpse of her car, but what really drew her attention were two unmarked black commercial vans parked directly behind it along the side of the dirt road.

She stopped to observe the two strange vehicles; there was no sign of occupants, but their presence was odd…even unnerving. They were at the dead end of a long-abandoned logging road with no development for miles -- there was no reason for them to be there.

Lara drew up alongside. Elsie noted a change in body language from her friend as the brunette’s gaze fell on the two mysterious vans.

“I don’t like this,” said the archaeologist, fidgeting with her axe handle. “At all.”

Normally Elsie might’ve chalked up Lara’s comments to her underlying paranoia, but she was feeling apprehensive herself – something felt off.

“What do we do?” asked the blonde. “Do we wait? Do we make a run for it?”

Lara turned to her. “Are you up for a sprint?”

“Try and catch me,” said Elsie with a smile.

The American unstrapped her backpack, Lara following suit. If there was a danger, she wanted to waste no time unbuckling their packs once they reached the car.

“Ready?” asked the archaeologist. Elsie took a deep breath and nodded.

“Go!”

They took off at a run, covering the fifty or so yards at a breakneck pace, the two young women arriving at Elsie’s car at almost the same instant.

The blonde quickly unlocked the driver’s door, throwing both her and Lara’s packs into the back seat as the brunette ran to the passenger side. Elsie jumped down behind the wheel and unlocked the right hand door.

She turned the key just as Lara dropped into her seat.

Nothing. Not even the sound of an engine turning.

“Fuck!!”

“Try again.”

Elsie did -- there might as well have been no engine under the cowl. She slammed her first against the steering. “It should at least be trying!”

“Let’s get out of here,” said Lara, the brunette’s tone sending a chill running down the blonde’s spine.

The American had just barely exited the car when she found herself face to face with a levelled submachinegun.

“Shit,” she swore, holding her hands up with palms facing outward. She turned her gaze to see Lara standing on the car’s opposite side in a similar position. “Let me guess…”

“Trinity, yeah,” said the brunette darkly.

“Ah, Miss Croft.”

Elsie turned to see a man in a beret and wearing a leather bomber jacket approaching them, with a bespectacled man in an English-style tweed jacket at his side. Two heavily armed thugs wielding submachineguns followed closely behind. From the looks of things they’d just exited the nearer van’s rear doors.

Aside from the two thugs training guns on her and Lara, two others had emerged from the woods to join their companions. The one watching Elsie grabbed her by the collar and roughly shoved her around the car to stand side by side with her companion.

The man in the beret was wiping his hands with a towel as though he’d just finished a meal. He stopped in front of Lara, looking her up and down with a surprisingly genial smile on his stubble-shadowed face – he looked to Elsie more like an art gallery curator than some secret society thug. She noticed that five of the six goons had their guns levelled at Lara; only the one that had escorted Elsie had his rifle trained on her.

“I was beginning to think you’d led us on a wild goose chase,” said the man in the beret.

“Then I’ll have to disappoint you,” replied Lara neutrally as one of the thugs removed her climbing axe.

“Secure them,” said the scholarly type, who seemed to Elsie to be the beret’s second in command by the way the thugs readily obeyed, tying both hers and Lara’s wrists together behind their backs.

“Ouch!” cried Elsie as the thug drew the rope painfully tight.

“Purely precautionary, of course,” said the beret. “I’ve read your file, Miss Croft. I’d prefer not to be the one hundred and fourteenth member of our organization to perish at your hands. I’m sure you understand.”

Elsie glanced sideways at the brunette. Holy shit…

“If you’d like to play it safe,” returned Lara, “I might suggest retiring to Florida.”

The beret smiled. “One day, perhaps,” he said. “But for the present, I’m tasked with recovering the Ogham stones you recovered last year. Frankly we were beginning to think you’d never come back for them.”

“And she didn’t,” interjected Elsie.

The man in the beret turned his attention to her. “Ah, Miss Trainor,” he said. “Until recently we were under the impression you were a purely social acquaintance of Miss Croft’s. It appears our intelligence was mistaken.”

“She is,” said Lara. “She’s not involved in any of this.”

“Indeed?” said the beret. He looked back to Elsie. “Odd that you accompanied your friend on a supposed social occasion to the same area where the Ogham stones were found, is it not?”

“But…that’s thirty miles from here,” said Elsie.

The man smiled.

_Shit._

“I told her about it,” said Lara. “That’s all. She had no part in any of that.”

“Search their bags,” ordered the tweed-clad man. Two of the thugs pulled the backpacks from car’s rear seat and proceeded to dump their contents on the ground.

“How the hell do you know who I am, anyway?” queried the blonde. “Who are you?”

The beret adopted a pensive air. “I’m afraid the exchange of information will have to be one way, Miss Trainor,” he said. “As for who I am, well, it really isn’t relevant to the exercise.”

“Fine,” said Elsie. “I’ll call you Belloq.”

The man smiled again. “As you wish.”

“Nothing here, sir,” one of the thugs announced, kicking the packs’ contents around in the dirt.

The beret turned back to Lara. “Now, Miss Croft,” he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell us where you stored the stones? It would greatly simply things for us and avoid any…unnecessary complications.”

The archaeologist stared at him silently.

Belloq pursed his lips. “No,” he said solemnly, “I didn’t suppose you would.”

He pulled a pistol from his jacket and pressed the barrel to Elsie’s temple in one smooth motion.

“NO!!” cried Lara as the blonde’s heart skipped, every fibre of her consciousness focused on the steel barrel pressing against the side of her head.

The beret turned his gaze back to Lara. “You said something, Miss Croft?”

“Don’t hurt her,” said Lara. “Please…she really has nothing to do with this…”

“It’s not a question of what your friend knows, Miss Croft,” said Belloq. “It’s simply a question of whether or not you’re willing to sacrifice her life in order to keep the location of the stones a secret.”

“No,” said Lara quickly. “I’m not.”

The beret pulled his pistol away from Elsie’s temple. The blonde’s heart rate slowed to a less dangerous level.

“University of Massachusetts,” said Lara dispiritedly. “Department of Historical Archaeology.”

“There,” said the beret as he slipped his pistol back into his jacket. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it, Miss Croft?”

Lara gave him a look of disgust.

He turned to his bookish second-in-command. “Liquidate Miss Croft, if you please.”

“What?? No!!” blurted Elsie, her sudden movement surprising the thug behind her as she broke free from his grip and fell to her knees. “NO!! Please don’t – I beg you, please, don’t do this – ”

Belloq turned to look at her. “It’s nothing personal, my dear,” he said with unanticipated civility. “I do not have a heart of stone, as surprising as that might seem to you. However allowing Miss Croft to go free would simply be…bad for business.”

“I’ll make up for it!” blurted Elsie is desperation, her grey eyes welling with tears. Please, I’ll give you everything I have, just…please…DON’T KILL HER!!”

The beret glanced at Elsie’s car and turned back to the blonde. “It is a noble gesture, Miss Trainor, truly,” he said. “But if that is a measure of your material wealth, I’m afraid we can’t do business.”

One of the goons moved towards Lara.

“I can get you millions!” cried Elsie, shuffling forward on her knees, tears flowing freely down her face. “Tens of millions! PLEASE!!”

Belloq looked at her with a dubious smile. “And how, might I ask,” he asked, “Would you manage such a feat?”

“I work at the Paddington Gallery in Portland,” said Elsie in a quivering voice. “We specialize in books, rare books…I have all the security codes, I can get you and your men in at night, you can take anything you want, there’d be no alarms, many of them are worth hundreds of thousands…please…”

The beret appeared thoughtful. “Interesting,” he mused. “But of course such valuable tomes would undoubtedly be thoroughly catalogued. Attempting to resell such unique items would be…problematic.”

He looked at her in seeming sympathy. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “It was a valiant effort, my dear. However financial gain is not an overriding concern for our organization, but merely a means to an end.”

“PLEASE!!”

“It’s all right, Elsie…” said Lara softly.

“No!” barked the American. “I won’t let you fucking die, Lara!!”

“Ah, such devotion,” said Belloq. “Almost brings a tear to the eye.”

“You like screwy artifacts, don’t you?” said Elsie to the beret, desperation evident in her voice. “That’s what you guys get your kicks from, right? Well I can get you a doozy…”

“Elsie, no!” interjected the brunette.

The brunette’s reaction seemed to pique the beret’s interest. “Go on, my dear.”

The blonde was breathing heavily. “How’s the Stone of Destiny sound?”

Belloq turned to the bespectacled man.

“That’s in Ireland,” said the bookish second-in-command dismissively. “And hardly in her possession. And in fact worthless, as it was determined long ago to be nothing but an unremarkable stone with no apparent properties.”

“It’s here!” cried Elsie. “The real stone! I have proof!”

“Elsie, no!” countered Lara. “If they can’t use it they’ll destroy it!”

“It’s a freaking rock!!” snapped the blonde.

“You mentioned proof, Miss Trainor?” interjected the beret.

“In my trouser pocket,” said Elsie, “My phone…we took pictures…”

The beret nodded to the bespectacled man, who drew forward and retrieved the American’s phone.

“You can unlock…one seven seven six…” said Elsie. “Just look at the most recent pictures…”

The tweed-clad man handed the phone to Belloq. The Trinity leader proceeded to flip through the images, an eyebrow raised in surprise.  
“These were taken two days ago,” said the beret, mulling. He turned to Elsie. “Where might we find this structure, Miss Trainor?”

“You expect to get that information for free?” replied Elsie.

Belloq smiled. “In fact, I do.”

He pulled his pistol and pressed it against Lara’s skull; the brunette closed her eyes.

Elsie’s heart jumped; she tried not to show her underlying panic – she knew she had to play it cool or else all was lost.

“You’ve already given orders to kill her,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice on an even keel without betraying her almost overwhelming fear. “That’s hardly leverage.”

The beret gazed at her curiously; he re-holstered his pistol.

“You’re adept at the game, Miss Trainor,” he said. “Very well, what would you propose?”

“Lara’s life,” she countered. “I show you were those pictures were taken…and you let her go free.”

The beret looked to his second in command, who simply shrugged. He stroked his stubbly beard pensively.

“All right…I agree to your terms, Miss Trainor,” said Belloq.

“I want your word on that,” said Elsie. “And as a word of warning, I’ll know if you’re lying…and I’ll lead you and your men around these woods till you’ve worn through your insoles.”

The man looked at her with something approaching respect. “I believe you,” he said. “You have my word, Miss Trainor. I will honour our agreement.”

Elsie scanned him for any sign of duplicity and found none. Her ability to detect untruths in people had never led her astray – and she fervently hoped it wasn’t this time.

“Deal.”


	10. Chapter 10

IN THE TIME WE HAVE: Chapter 10

Elsie was exhausted; two days of trudging through the wilderness without food, little water and even less sleep had thoroughly sapped her energy. The Trinity types were moving them along at a merciless pace: they’d brought sufficient food for themselves, of course, but had conveniently neglected to allow for the two young women. Elsie wondered how she and Lara would get back without the basic supplies in their packs – without substantial nourishment to replace burned calories it would be a near thing. They’d even confiscated Elsie’s pocketknife.

They’d removed the American’s bindings at least, allowing her to lead the way more or less unhindered, though they’d permitted no such relief for her companion. Lara, for her part, looked completely defeated. Elsie could see the brunette’s eyes darting among her captors, constantly scanning for any sort of opening that might allow her to turn the tables on her adversaries, but the Trinity types weren’t taking chances. Two goons accompanied the archaeologist at all times and took turns to regularly check the bindings tying her wrists together. If Belloq’s claim about Lara having taken down so many of their operatives was true, Elsie supposed their paranoia was at least understandable – not that it mattered to the blonde, of course: the sight of Lara bound and helpless was thoroughly unsettling.

She consoled herself in the knowledge they’d soon be free, once they’d delivered their captors to the ancient tomb. Of course Lara wouldn’t be happy with the loss of such a historic find, but she’d live to archaeologize another day. At least, so Elsie fervently hoped -- her gut told her the Trinity leader had not been lying when he’d agreed to her terms. The realization that she’d gambled their lives based on nothing more that her instincts was unnerving.

She shook the disturbing thought from her mind – she’d selected door number two and there was no point now in wondering what prizes lay behind doors one and three.

A familiar sight came into view: the sharp bend in the river was the sign she’d been anticipating.

“We’re close,” she called back, a surge of energy allowing her to quicken her pace, the Trinity group following behind.

The hill finally loomed into view. Elsie slowed her pace as the bespectacled man brushed past her without a word, making a beeline for the massive stone that blocked the entrance.

“Impressive,” said Belloq as he came up from behind. “Larger than I’d imagined…”

Elsie spun to face the Trinity leader. “That’s it, then,” she said. “I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.”

“In time, Miss Trainor,” replied the beret, wiping his brow with a rag. “We first have to ascertain whether this truly is the location you desc – ”

“It’s here!” blurted Elsie angrily. “Geezus, Belloq, ask your brainiac over there if you don’t believe me! You saw the marker, think it referred to the local Starbucks??”

“Doctor…?”

The tweed-clad man was examining the inscriptions on the entrance stone. “A definite reference to the Stone of Kings,” he said. “This has to be it.”

“There!” said Elsie triumphantly. “Happy now?”

Belloq sighed. “Very well, Miss Trainor.” He turned to the two goons behind who held Lara. “Remove Miss Croft’s bindings, if you please.”  
The beret gazed about the woods as one of the thugs cut through the ropes holding Lara’s wrists together. “There,” he finally said, pointing to a fallen tree, slanted at an angle. “That’ll do nicely, gentlemen.”

Lara was rubbing her arms painfully when she was suddenly grasped by the two thugs and forcibly pushed toward.

Elsie spun on the Trinity leader. “What the hell?!” she exclaimed. “We had a deal!!”

The man smiled at her. “And I fully intend to honour our agreement, Miss Trainor,” he countered. “There’s just a small matter to take care of first…”

A chill shot down Elsie’s spine. The thugs were roughly shoving Lara toward the fallen tree, the purpose of which she knew couldn’t be good.

“What’s going on??” she barked angrily at the Trinity leader. “Tell me!!”

“We’re simply ensuring that Miss Croft will not present a future risk to our operations,” said the man with disturbing calmness. “My superiors would not take kindly to my releasing such a serious threat without taking certain…precautions.”

The thugs shoved Lara into the log, hard – the brunette almost wrapped around the fallen tree with the force of the impact.

“What are they doing?? You agreed to let her go!”

Belloq clasped his hands behind his back as he observed the proceedings with mild interest. “And we will, Miss Trainor,” returned the beret smoothly. “We’re simply going to snap Miss Croft’s spine.”

All colour drained from Elsie’s already pale features.

“You soulless bastard!” she practically spat. “You might as well just kill her and be done with it!”

“But that would violate our agreement,” countered the Trinity leader merrily as the thugs flipped Lara around and shoved her back-first against the log. “I am a man of my word, after all.”

“She’ll be paralyzed!!”

The beret’s eyebrows raised. “Of course.”

There was a cry as one of the goons holding Lara went down in a heap – the archaeologist had kicked him hard in the crotch while dodging his partner’s attempt at striking her with the butt end of his rifle.

“LARA, RUN!!” screamed Elsie in desperation.

The brunette did a barrel roll away from the fallen tree, in the same motion grasping the fallen thug’s rifle.

Elsie felt the metal barrel of Belloq’s pistol press against her right temple just as Lara came out of her roll in a firing position, her rifle pointed at the Trinity leader.

“Let her go!” ordered the Englishwoman.

“By all means, take the shot,” said the beret calmly. “Who knows, perhaps with a little luck I might not react in time to press the trigger. You might even miss your friend here.”

Elsie felt another gun barrel poke her in the small of her back.

Four of the thugs had gathered behind Lara, each with their rifles trained on the archaeologist.

Lara’s gaze shifted to the blonde’s; Elsie could see the despair in the Englishwoman’s eyes.

One of the goons smashed the butt end of his rifle into the side of Lara’s face; the brunette crumpled to the ground.

Elsie turned on her captor. “FUCK YOU!!”

Belloq holstered his pistol as the Trinity agents retrieved their rifle. Lara braced her hands against the ground and tried to push herself up, her shaking arms giving way as she collapsed face-first into the dirt. The thugs each grabbed an arm and began dragging Lara’s limp form back to the fallen tree.

“I apologize if our accommodation doesn’t meet with your satisfaction,” said the Trinity leader genially.

“’Accommodation’?” snapped Elsie. “How do you expect me to even get her out of here, you royal prick?”

“You needn’t worry about such things, Miss Trainor,” said the beret with an ominous smile.

_Oh, fuck…_

“You…you’re going to kill me,” concluded Elsie in a hushed voice.

The Trinity leader shrugged. “I’m afraid you neglected to include yourself in the terms of your agreement.”

Elsie’s heart was racing dangerously -- so this was to be the bookending chapter of her life. But she would not abandon her friend to her fate, not so long as she still drew breath.

“How long do you think she can possibly last out here,” asked the American frantically, “If she can’t even so much as raise a finger??”  
“A few days at most, I’d expect,” answered Belloq dispassionately.

“This is fucking murder!” shrieked the blonde.

The thugs were dragging Lara’s listless body over the tree, one taking hold of her arms while another grasped her boots.

“Merely a technicality, Miss Trainor.”

Elsie hurled herself in fury at the beret, her wild punch only prevented from connecting by the quick intervention of the thug behind her.

“You piece of shit!” spat the blonde, struggling to break free of the goon’s hold. “Tell me you’re a fucking lawyer!”

The man chuckled. “As it happens,” he returned as the Trinity agents began to pull Lara backward against the fallen tree, “I do have some expertise in legal matters. Most perceptive.”

Elsie rage quickly turned to panic; Lara’s body was being bent back at an unnatural angle, her utter vulnerability sending shivers through the American – the brunette was gritting her teeth in agony.

The blonde ceased struggling against the thug’s unrelenting hold.

“You need her!” she blurted, playing one last desperate card for Lara’s sake. “You’re not getting into that thing without her help, I can promise you!”

The man looked at her with mild disinterest. “And why not, Miss Trainor?”

“Ask the professor over there!”

Belloq continued to gaze at Elsie for agonizingly long seconds. Lara was being stretched out painfully, ribs visible through the thin cotton of her top. Elsie thought she would hear the gruesome sound of cracking vertebrae at any moment.

The thugs pulled harder, putting their entire weight into the involuntary backbend.

Lara screamed.

“ASK HIM!!”

The beret finally raised a hand.

“Hold if you please, gentlemen,” he said.

The goons charged with crippling the brunette looked up in surprise, but thankfully relaxed their grip; Lara’s form was allowed to crumple limply to the ground.

“Doctor, report if you please,” said the beret.

The bespectacled man drew up from his inspection of the stone and made his way to the Trinity leader. “It’s definitely something significant,” he announced. “The portal stone makes reference to the Stone of Kings, along with a requirement for – ”

“Yes, yes,” interjected Belloq with a glint of impatience. “Can we get inside? A simple yes or no, please.”

The bookish man looked back to the stone and shrugged. “As of right now, no,” he replied. “There’s a fresh gouge in the ground indicating the rock was moved recently, but don’t ask me how those two managed it. We’d need either heavy equipment or dig it out by hand.”

The beret looked irritated.

“I need a third option, doctor.”

“There isn't one,” said the man in the tweed jacket. He nodded in Lara’s direction. “Not short term, anyway, unless…”

He indicated Lara’s limp form by the tree.

“She knew how to disarm the traps inside too,” said Elsie, hoping her nervousness wouldn’t betray her duplicity. “At least in the first chamber…”

The bookish man looked at her. “First chamber?”

“We gave up after the first,” said the blonde. “There were too many traps, it was getting dangerous…”

“But how did you move the stone?”

“I don’t know,” said Elsie anxiously. “That was Lara’s doing…she said something…it was in a weird language…”

Belloq looked to his lieutenant.

“It might require a verbal component,” said the bespectacled man. “I saw something similar in Sri Lanka, but your guess is as good as mine, really. One thing’s for sure, those two couldn’t have moved it on their own.”

The beret tapped his foot on the ground repeatedly.

“Very well,” he finally said. He turned to Elsie. “Revive your companion, if you please, Miss Trainor.”

“Can I have water, at least?” asked the American. “She hasn’t had anything to drink all day…”

The Trinity leader nodded to the thug restraining her. The brute release his grip and handed Elsie his canteen.

Elsie ran over and crouched before her fallen companion. She caressed Lara’s unbruised cheek, taking care not to move her – she had no way of knowing if Belloq’s thugs had managed to inflict their desired spinal trauma.

“Lara?”

The archaeologist’s eyes fluttered slightly.

“Hey,” said Elsie in as soothing a voice as she could manage in her terrified state. “Come on, girl, talk to me…”

Lara’s eyes finally popped open for a moment before squeezing shut again, the Englishwoman clasping her hands to her skull – at least she could move, noted Elsie with profound relief.

“Unh...bloody hell,” lamented the Englishwoman painfully.

“Here,” said Elsie, putting the canteen to the brunette’s lips. “This’ll help…”

Lara took a swallow and coughed up most of the ingested water.

Shit…

“Miss Trainor – ” called the beret from near the entrance stone.

“Give me a fucking minute!!” barked Elsie. Turning her attention back to her friend, she stoked Lara’s hair. “Can you move?”

Lara took a few deep breaths and nodded.

Elsie helped the brunette prop herself up against the fallen tree; the archaeologist immediately winced and bit her lip.

“Those bastards,” cursed the blonde.

“I’m…okay…” gasped Lara.

“Yeah, and I’m Dame Edna.”

Lara shook her head dismissively. “What’s happened?”

“I convinced them they need you,” said Elsie in a low voice so as not to be overheard by the thugs standing nearby. “Told them the tomb was festooned with traps…I didn’t know what else to do, Lara, I just – ”

“Shhh,” said Lara, wiping a tear trailing down Elsie’s cheek. “You bought us time…if we can get in there…”

Elsie leaned in close. “Lara,” she whispered, “We...we’re as good as dead…both of us…”

“I know,” echoed the brunette. “There’s no cutting deals with these people, Elsie.”

“I’m sorry – ”

“Shhh.”

“Miss Trainor…”

Lara took a deep breath. “Be ready,” she whispered.

Elsie nodded anxiously.

The Englishwoman pushed herself to her feet, the blonde cringing at the obvious pain the movement was causing her friend – it took the brunette a few moments to straighten up completely.

“Welcome back, Miss Croft,” said the beret with mock civility. “So nice of you to join us.”


	11. Chapter 11

IN THE TIME WE HAVE: Chapter 11

Lara crept along the stone-lined passageway, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her lower back as well as the lingering effects of a rifle butt to her skull. It didn’t help that she couldn’t see adequately, having to rely on the Trinity thug’s torchlight behind her for illumination as her own body cast shadows on the floor and walls.

She fervently hoped the ‘Skeleton King’ had reset upon its dais; unarmed as she was, she would be first in its line of fire if it hadn’t. At the same time, she feared the alternate possibility, that her vicious hammer blow had permanently disabled the guardian; she desperately needed the split second distraction its intervention would provide.

She emerged cautiously into the circular chamber, the back wall partly concealed by the large menhir dominating the centre of the room. Her eyes immediately fell on the sword Elsie had dropped, her fingers twitching for a weapon; she edged closer to the ancient blade, pretending not to pay it any mind, but the goon following her was frustratingly alert and quickly snatched it up.

The beret strode into the room followed by his lieutenant and thugs; Elsie was in their midst and seemingly forgotten, at least for the moment.

“Incredible,” said the bespectacled man as he shone his flashlight around the chamber. “Reminds me of Sutton Hoo in some ways, but the preservation here is uncanny…”

“These weapons and shields,” said Belloq, moving to the near wall. “Significant or window dressing?”

“Hard to say,” said the Doctor. “But certainly worthy of salvage at the very least…”

Everyone was gazing about the chamber in amazement, the inexplicable motion of the entrance stone having astounded them sufficiently to accept the supernatural nature of the place. Lara took advantage of her escorting thug’s temporary distraction to quietly shuffle closer to the central monolith; she subtly peered around the stone and glimpsed the shadowy form of guardian perched once more upon its dais.

A moment later the beret’s light fell upon the ancient corpse.

“What do you make of that?” asked the Trinity leader. “And how about this,” he added, shifting his light on the deceased Forrestal splayed out on the floor.

His lieutenant strode over and examined the seated figure. “The torc is indicative of an Iron Age chieftain of some sort,” he said simply. Kneeling down at the dried out corpse, he frowned in confusion. “Not sure how he fits in to all this…”

Belloq nodded and turned to Elsie. “Where is this other chamber you mentioned, Miss Trainor?” he asked. “I see nothing of the sort. Nor do I see any evidence of traps, disarmed or otherwise.”

The thug nearest Lara was staring at the figure of the ‘Skeleton King’; the brunette took another quiet step toward the centre of the chamber.

“It’s…under a secret panel in the floor,” replied Elsie.

Lara furtively pressed her hand against the carved menhir.

“Indeed?” returned the beret, drawing his pistol. “I think there are no other chambers, Miss Trainor, I submit that you – ”

The Trinity leader was cut off by the familiar rumbling of the entrance stone rolling back into pace.

“Is this gonna cave in on us?” asked one of the thugs, he and his cohorts gazing around the chamber nervously.

The bespectacled man stood up. “There aren’t any traps in here,” he declared, moving to the beret’s side. “This whole place is a trap…and now I’ll wager we’re caught in it.”

Belloq looked to the blonde with a look that could best be described as shock.

“Not as innocent as you appear, are you Miss Trainor?” he accused.

Elsie took a nervous step back. The beret raised his pistol.

_No --_

Lara bolted for the Trinity leader – and was immediately grabbed by one of the escorting thugs, who proceeded to wrap Lara in a chokehold.

“Don’t!” pleaded the archaeologist. “This was my doing – ”

The beret smiled at her. “We’ll be getting back to you in good time, Miss Croft,” he said ominously. “I believe there’s a little matter of a broken back to conclude.”

He turned back to the blonde. “But in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy this – ”

“NO!!”

Belloq’s face suddenly went blank. His pistol slowly shifted to his lieutenant.

“Hey, watch it – ”

A flash.

The crack reverberated loudly in the enclosed chamber as the tweed-clad man crumpled to the ground.

“Holy shit!!” said one of the goons, levelling his rifle at the Trinity leader. “What the hell, dude??”

Lara bit down hard on the restraining thug’s arm, drawing blood.

“FUCK!” cried the Trinity agent as Lara kicked and struck backward with her elbow, catching her captor in the jaw.

The ‘Skeleton King’ loomed into view, sword drawn.

“The Hell’s THAT??”

“SHOOT IT!!” one of the thugs cried.

Another crack. A Trinity agent staggered to his knees.

Chaos. Automatic weapons fire erupted and bullets began flying, sparks glittering from stone and metal.

Lara leapt forward and grasped Elsie’s hand, the cacophony of screams, gunshots and ricochets making it impossible to be heard above the din. The pulsing flashes and violent motions made it difficult to even make out coherent shapes. But the brunette knew exactly where to go.  
The archaeologist quickly led her companion to the rear of the chamber and almost threw the American into the crawlspace, bullets striking the wall all around them. They couldn’t dawdle.

The blonde’s feet disappeared from view. Lara plunged into the tiny corridor and crawled as fast as the limited room allowed, the deafening noise receding behind them. She felt more than saw inexplicable moisture on the stone floor that hadn’t been there on the previous occasion of their escape, but there was no time to investigate.

A few yards ahead the faint light from their previously excavated exit came into view; the two young women crawled out to the relative safety of the outdoors. Lara got to her feet.

“Let’s go,” she ordered anxiously. “If any of them saw us slip out – “

The blonde was still on her knees at the tunnel’s entrance, staring curiously at her hands.

A column of ice shot up Lara’s painfully throbbing back; the American’s hands were stained in blood.

“Elsie!” cried Lara, falling to the ground before her companion.

The blonde slowly raised her gaze to meet the brunette’s.

“I think…you’d better go on without me,” she said shakily with a smile.

“No, no, no, no,” lamented Lara, desperately searching for the wound, quickly finding a growing patch of blood-soaked cloth at Elsie’s waist.

“Shit!”

“Sorry about this,” said the American as Lara pulled up the side of her shirt. “I guess I forgot to pack my bullet-proof vest, heh…”

Lara identified both the entry and exit wound – thankfully it was near enough the side that it didn’t appear to have struck major organs, but the flow of blood was alarming.

“It passed clean through, Elsie,” said Lara, her voice cracking. “You’re going to make it, okay, we just need to find something to staunch – ”  
“Don’t,” interrupted the blonde. “I’m just going to slow – ”

“We stick together!” exclaimed the brunette. “You said so yourself, remember?? Don’t you dare quit on me now!”

Grey eyes stared into Lara’s. “Even if we do,” she said seriously, “I won’t get far…there’s no point in denying -- ”

“Bullocks!” blurted the archaeologist. “I’m getting you home, Elsie, I don’t care if I have to carry you all the sodding way!”

The blonde’s pale eyes glittered. “You probably would, too,” she said softly. “Fine, then…”

Lara helped Elsie to her feet. She needed to fashion some sort of tourniquet, and quickly –

“Going somewhere?”

Lara spun around. Not five yards from them stood a Trinity agent, rifle trained on the brunette.

_Shit!_

She’d thought they’d all entered the tomb behind her – she cursed herself for not performing a head count.

“She’s been shot!” said the archaeologist, grasping the blonde’s hand. “I need to get her to a hospital!”

“Is that right?”

“Please, mister,” pleaded Elsie. “I just wanna go home…”

The agent’s eyes flicked from Lara to her companion, his gaze shifting down to the bloodstain slowly spreading down the blonde’s side.

“What happened in there?” he demanded, nodding to the hill.

“They’re finished,” said Lara, concluding as much from the lack of muffled weapons fire. “There’s nothing you can do for them…I’m sorry…”

The man looked at her and nodded slowly. “Figured this was a bad idea,” he muttered more to himself than the brunette.

He lowered his rifle.

“Beat it.”

Lara blinked. Had she heard right?

“Go on,” said the man. “Amscray.”

The brunette took a hesitant half step.

“Look, you’re not gonna buy one in the back,” assured the Trinity agent.

He uncocked his rifle.

That was enough for the brunette. Lara tightened her grip on Elsie’s wrist and started down the way they’d come.

“Here,” the man said as he unslung a small bag from his shoulder and tossed it to the archaeologist. “You’ll be needing that.”

Lara peered inside; it was a medikit.

She looked back at her unexpected benefactor.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

The man shrugged. “Not much of a future in this organization for lone survivors of lost expeditions,” he said. “Now get moving.”

They set off through the woods, Lara waiting until they were a couple of hundred yards from the tomb before stopping to tend to Elsie’s wound; she packed most of the gauze from the medikit against the her side and secured it with tape around the blonde’s midsection, pulling it as tight as she dared. The American winced painfully but bore the agony without complaint.

“Good girl,” breathed Lara as she brushed sweat-soaked blonde locks from her companion’s face. “Now let’s get you home.”

They proceeded along the river’s edge, the shore allowing for easier and less impeded progress being devoid of trees, but it also made the two potentially easier to track. It was a compromise Lara was prepared to endure for her friend’s sake – the less exertion required of the blonde, the better.

Guilt hung heavily on Lara’s heart; the only reason her friend’s life was now in jeopardy was because she couldn’t stop herself from delving right back into tomb raider mode at the first opportunity.

Why couldn’t I just leave it alone…

Worse, by late evening it was clear her friend was on her last legs; she was panting heavily and her pallor had become frighteningly pale – the improvised compress had reduced the rate of blood loss but hadn’t staunched it completely.

A short time later the blonde paused, looking up at the faint stars beginning to glitter in the distant twilight opposite the sunset.

And promptly collapsed.

The sight of her friend crumpling to the ground send lightning bolts shooting through the archaeologist.

“ELSIE!!”

“Let’s…take five,” gasped the blonde as she shakily pushed herself up to all fours.

Lara scrambled to her friend’s side and pushed her up into a sitting position.

“Hang in there,” implored the archaeologist as she pulled up the side of Elsie’s shirt to check on the bandage – it was completely soaked through. Fresh blood trickled down the American’s side.

_Shit…_

She drew off the dripping bandage and applied a new compress with their remaining gauze. It would have to last.

“Told you…I wouldn’t…get far,” panted the blonde, smiling tiredly.

“We’re more than halfway there, Elsie,” said Lara worriedly as she tightened the bandage holding the gauze in place. “Don’t you even think about giving up now!”

The American’s lack of reaction to the pain she knew the tightening of the tape should be causing was deeply troubling – her friend was slipping into shock.

The blonde flopped languidly against the brunette, her face pressing against the archaeologist’s shoulder.

“We had…a good run…didn’t we…”

Lara grasped Elsie by the shoulders and pushed her companion back to the vertical.

“We’re not done yet,” said the archaeologist, perilously close to tears. “Not by a long shot, Elsie…I’m going to get you home, I promise.”

The American smiled at the brunette, her eyes half closed.

“Love you…so much…”

Lara bit her trembling lip.

Elsie leaned forward. “Just one…last…”

Their lips joined. There was a sloppiness to the blonde’s kiss but it was not lust-driven; Lara knew Elsie was down to her last vestiges of energy, her body swaying unsteadily.

Her friend was dying.

“No!” cried the brunette as she pushed the blonde back. “I told you we’re not done!”

She slid her arms under her companion and picked her up bodily, cradling the young woman against her chest.

“We’ll finish that when we get home, okay?” croaked Lara as she set off at a pace she knew she couldn’t maintain, but also knew she must. “Just stay with me…stay with me, Elsie…”

“You…need…to rest…”

The brunette shook her head as she almost ran down the riverbank. She had to make good time while there were still useful light, but would carry on through the night regardless.

But Elsie was right; her body was screaming against the abuse it was being subjected to -- almost three days of constant moving without food and little water, quite apart from the injuries suffered, was taking its toll. But she would demand even more of it.

There would be no stopping.

“Heyyy,” said the blonde in an alarmingly weak voice. “Don’t…cry…”

Elsie raised her hand and intercepted a tear trailing down the brunette’s cheek.

A moment later the American’s eyes were closed; her hand slowly slid down to hang limply, swaying with the brunette’s motion.

“I love you, Elsie,” gasped the Englishwoman, tears blurring her sight.

Her pace quickened.


	12. Chapter 12

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, Chapter 12

Lara’s arm was draped across Elsie’s shoulders, the blonde straining under the load. It wasn’t that the brunette was heavy, but the Englishwoman was leaning awkwardly against her companion, her legs having adopted the consistency of wet noodles.

Elsie could feel Lara’s breath in her ear, the archaeologist having been gleefully burying her face in Elsie’s cheek ever since they’d set out from the pub. Her friend reeked of alcohol, hardly surprising as she’d quaffed a good half dozen shots in between sampling several of Elsie’s beers, having confiscated those she fancied – but what really surprised the blonde was the startling transformation in her friend’s personality.

Gone was the serious, demure, adorable Lara; in her place a fun-loving, uninhibited doppelgänger had materialized.

Okay, so she still shared the adorable quotient with her sober template, but other than that she could’ve been an alien from Tau Ceti for all she had in common with the Lara she knew.

“S’nice of you t’walk me home,” breathed Lara into Elsie’s ear before breaking into unprovoked giggles.

“Yeah, well,” replied the American as she staggered back and forth in an effort to keep them both from toppling over, “I’m a sucker for hard luck cases…plus didn’t want to see you try and swim back…”

“Heehee,” giggled Lara, slipping clumsily as if to emphasize the blonde’s point. “Hey, why’d we don’ not get married?”

Elsie shook her head. “What? Geez, Lara, I’m gonna need a translator, your grammar’s all over the place like a dog’s breakfast – ”

“Let’s get married,” said the brunette before planting a kiss on the American’s cheek.

The blonde stopped in her tracks.

She looked at her companion disbelievingly. “God, you are sooo wasted,” she declared.

“Unbou -- undoob – undoubtedly,” giggled the archaeologist. “Let’s do it.”

“Lara…you’re nuts!”

“Thank you,” breathed the brunette as she struggled to find Elsie’s lips, planting a clumsy kiss on her nose instead.

The blonde shook her head and smiled. “C’mon, let’s get you home,” she said as she set off once more.

“Nooooo,” lamented Lara, trying to pull her companion to a stop, but in her inebriated state managing little more than to shuffle her sideways. “Let’s find so’place…ge’ married right now…”

“Yeah, one of those twenty-four hour marriage places,” chuckled the American, hauling her noodle-legged companion along. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly in Vegas…and you are going to have the mother of all hangovers come morning.”

“Come onnnnnn,” pleaded the brunette, putting more of her weight onto her companion. “I love you, Elsie…”

That brought the blonde to a halt more decisively than any of Lara’s ineffectual tugging.

With her free hand she brushed away the wild brown locks that were half obscuring the archaeologist’s face. “Lara…that means so much,” she said softly. “I just wish I didn’t have to wait for you to be falling-down drunk to hear it…”

“I’m sorrryyyyyyy,” said Lara as she began covering her friend with kisses.

“T’sokay!” laughed Elsie as she reeled under the barrage of pecks. “Really, it’s fine -- I love you too!”

The brunette paused her kissing onslaught.

She suddenly pulled back and looked sadly Elsie, all signs of inebriation having inexplicably evaporated.

The blonde gaped at her. “Uh, what gives…?”

“Elsie, why didn’t you tell me?” asked the Englishwoman softly, brown eyes filled with sorrow.

The blonde shook her head. “Lara, you’re not making any sense – tell you what??”

The archaeologist grimaced painfully. She seized Elsie’s hand and held it up to her face.

It was dripping in blood.

Elsie stared at her bloodied fingers in wide-eyed disbelief. The crimson liquid extended down her arm like a long red latex glove.

She looked down. Her entire body was drenched in blood as though she’d just plunged into a bath full of the red liquid, Elizabeth Bathory-style. She drew in a sharp breath, horrified.

“Jeezus!!”

Her eyes snapped open just as she shot up in a sitting position, her breathing ragged. The smell of alcohol persisted, though it now possessed a distinctly more clinical quality than that typically consumed.

_Shit…_

She was in a darkened room, sitting in what was obviously a hospital bed; her paper-thin gown and the faint lights on the medical panel over her bed were further confirmation of her present situation. She shuddered.

She hated hospitals.

She shook her hand through her hair. She felt light-headed, though at least measurably less so than she last remembered.

She took a few moments to piece together her last memories – she’d been bleeding heavily, fighting desperately to maintain consciousness.

A battle she was losing.

Her last vague awareness was of Lara scooping her up in her arms and setting off through the forest.

 _Impossible_ , she thought. _I shouldn’t be here. I can’t be here._

And yet, she most assuredly was.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and immediately winced at a burning twinge in her side.

That hadn’t been a dream, at least – the pain just above her waist confirmed she’d most definitely been shot.

She pulled up her gown and examined the bandage wrapped around her lower torso; it was clean and white and professionally applied. Best of all, it exhibited no sign of seepage.

Relieved, she pulled the gown down, the movement eliciting a painful tug on her arm.

It was then she saw it – a long plastic tube connecting her forearm to an overhanging I.V. bag.

_Needle!!_

She clawed at the tape frantically, managing to tear off the adhesive before pulling out the diabolic syringe, the plastic tube clanking loosely against the bed’s steel frame.

She grasped the edge of the bed for stability as she fought to being her breathing under control. _Shoulda figured…they always freaking stick you in here…_

A moment later she heard a subtle movement from within the room: the soft sound of rubbing fabric.

She slowly turned to look across the bed, taking care not to twist her torso excessively.

There, in the corner of the room, was a shadowy figure of a sleeping woman curled up in a chair.

_Lara!!_

Elsie flopped down to the floor, bare feet pressing against cold linoleum as she scampered around the bed, ignoring the throbbing pain in her side.

She knelt before the chair, her knees pressing painfully against the hard floor. She gently brushed a few stray locks from the brunette’s face, frowning at the young Englishwoman’s appearance: her clothes were severely torn, her skin not faring much better, being liberally sprinkled with many crudely-applied bandages, almost as though the archaeologist had hurriedly slapped them on herself. Dark shadows under closed eyelids spoke of utter exhaustion.

Elsie desperately wanted to know how they’d come to be here -- wherever ‘here’ was -- but she was reluctant to wake her friend; the brunette obviously needed rest.

But why hadn’t the brunette been properly cared for? Were there at least no other available beds?

She pushed herself up, wincing at the sharp pain in her side – it was going to take getting used to.

She opened the door and shuffled out into the deserted hallway. She followed the faint sounds of shuffling paper down the darkened corridor.

“Excuse me,” said Elsie, tapping the counter of the nurse’s duty station.

The young raven-haired nurse looked up to her in wide-eyed surprise.

“Whoa, what are you doing up?” she said as she scrambled to her feet and scurried around the counter. “And where’s your I.V.??”

“I don’t need it anymore,” replied the blonde. “What’s the story with my friend, why hasn’t she been – hey, leggo!”

She pulled away from the nurse’s grip.

“You have to get back to bed!” exclaimed the raven-haired woman. “You shouldn’t be wandering around in your condition!”

“I’m fine!” protested Elsie. “Tell me what hap – "

“No, you’re not,” insisted the nurse. “Look, can you at least keep it down, please? It’s not even two o’clock!”

“Fine,” said the blonde, crossing her arms. “But my friend’s in my room and she’s an absolute mess, why haven’t you – ”

“Shhh,” cringed the nurse, indicating a waiting area nearby that was relatively sheltered.

Elsie sighed and followed her to the room. She was about to let loose when the raven-haired woman pre-empted her.

“Your friend wouldn’t let anyone treat her,” explained the hospital worker. “She wouldn’t leave your side, it was all we could do to keep her out of the O.R.. She was almost hysterical, really, but we finally compromised, we allowed her to stay in your room so long as we could treat her once you were out of danger. She finally drifted off a few hours ago.”

“Well I think it’s safe to say I’m out of danger now, right?” established Elsie. “And where am I, exactly?”

“You’re at Charles Dean Memorial, in Greenville,” replied the nurse. “And I’m not qualified to determine if you’re out of danger, Miss Trainor – ”

“Elsie.”

“Elsie, fine. I don’t think you realize just how bad your condition was when you were brought in here.”

“Oh, I think I have an idea,” said the blonde ominously. “To be honest I never expected I’d wake up from this...”

“Well you very nearly didn’t,” confirmed the nurse. “You’d lost an awful lot of blood, more than Doctor M’Banga thought was survivable, actually. Said your blood pressure was the lowest he’d ever seen someone live through.”

A thought occurred to the American. “How long…?”

“Two days,” said the raven-haired woman. “And we didn’t think you’d be up and about this quickly, to be honest, which is why we have to get you hooked back up to your I.V.”

Elsie shook her head vigorously – and quickly regretted it as a dull throbbing pain permeated her skull. She slapped her hand against the wall to keep her balance.

“See?”

_Okay, so I’m not one hundred percent…point taken._

The nurse grabbed her elbow. “Come on, let’s – ”

“You’re not hooking me back up to that thing,” pronounced the American, jerking back. “Ain’t gonna happen, don’t even think about it, freaking needle of death – ”

“Okay, okay!” said the nurse, throwing up her hands in defeat. “I’ll let Dr. M’Banga try and talk some sense into you in the morning, but can you at least get back to bed?”

“Tell me how I got here,” insisted the blonde.

The nurse huffed. “Do we have to do this now?” she asked. “I really need to get back to my station – ”

“Just tell me,” said Elsie. “And I’ll go back to bed, I promise.”

The nurse sighed, defeated. “Fine, just keep in mind I don’t know the whole story,” she clarified. “According to the paramedics, your friend carried you several miles through the backwoods until she was pulled over somewhere on the highway near Rockwood for speeding – ”

“She was driving my car?”

“No idea,” answered the raven-haired woman. “You’ll have to ask her. Anyway, from there the cops called the paramedics and that’s how you ended up here. By the way the police want to talk to you whenever you feel up to it, apparently they didn’t get much out of your friend.”

“Heh, not much point in that,” mused Elsie more to herself. She looked back to the nurse. “So you’re gonna take care of Lara now, right?”

“The moment she lets us, of course,” said the hospital worker. “It’s not like we didn’t try…so that’s her name, then? Lara? Frankly she’s lucky we let her stay in your room at all -- she categorically refused to identify herself, all we knew for sure was that she’s English and obviously had your welfare at heart, aside from that…”

Elsie mulled over this information. Was Lara so paranoid as to fear being tracked down in a hospital? But then, the Trinity agents had showed up out of nowhere, hadn’t they? Maybe paranoia wasn’t exactly an overreaction…

The nurse jostled her from her contemplation.

“Now will you please go back to bed? I really have to get back on duty, I could get in trouble -- ”

The blonde sighed. “Okay, thanks for your time…”

Elsie shuffled back to her room and quietly closed the door behind her, slumping back against its cold surface as she gazed upon her friend curled up, fetal-like, in the corner chair.

“My God, Lara…” she whispered, astonished as to what it must have cost the brunette to perform the impossible.

She made her way to the corner and knelt once more before the chair. She could at least offer her a more comfortable sleeping arrangement.

She gently stroked Lara’s cheek. “Hey girl,” she said softly. “Come back to me, snookums…”

Lara’s eyes fluttered open; the American drew in a sharp breath to see they were severely bloodshot.

“Elsie!!” blurted Lara, quickly pulling the blonde into a hug. “Gods I thought I’d lost you!!

“Nah,” said the American, stroking the brunette’s ponytail affectionately. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Lara Croft…you still owe me a book, after all.”

The archaeologist was crying into her shoulder, the young woman’s battered body heaving with sobs.

“Heyyy,” said Elsie, nuzzling the brunette’s ear, “I’m here, it’s all good…and all thanks to you…”

“Thanks to me…you almost died,” gasped the Englishwoman in between bouts of weeping, her nails digging painfully into the blonde’s back. “Thought I was…too late…”

Elsie drew back and cradled Lara’s face in her hands. “Don’t you dare go down that road,” she said imploringly. “Don’t you dare, Lara.”

A pained expression. “If I’d just listened to you – ”

“Those dudes would still have been waiting for us at the car,” interjected the blonde.

The archaeologist drew a sharp breath. The sobs slowed, gradually replaced by a pained breathing. She slowly drew back and looked at her friend.

“I…didn’t think about that,” she said in a whisper.

“And without that tomb we wouldn’t have had any bargaining power,” underlined Elsie. “We’d most likely both be rotting in a ditch somewhere by now…actually it’s only thanks to that thing that we’re still alive and kicking…well, maybe not so much the kicking part...”

Lara slowly shook her head, her brown-red eyes filled with wonder.

“How do you always manage to find the positive in everything?” she asked softly.

“Same reason you always find the negative,” replied the American, smiling. “I swear you are your own worst enemy sometimes, Lara…”

The brunette swallowed. “Point taken,” she said softly. “I guess…you’re the Yang to my Yin…”

Elsie raised an eyebrow. “Actually, they do kinda spoon each other, don’t they?”

“I…er…suppose?”

“Come on,” said Elsie, grinning as got to her feet, ignoring the blazing fire in her side as she pulled the brunette up by the hand.

“What are you doing??” asked Lara as the blonde slipped under the bed’s covers, still clutching the archaeologist’s wrist.

“Come on, silly,” said the American, holding up the blanket to allow the Englishwoman easy ingress.

Lara looked aghast. “Elsie….not here!”

“Why not?”

“It’s a bloody hospital!”

“So? A perfect place to give and receive comfort then, right?”

“But…I’m filthy!”

“They clean the sheets either way,” said the blonde.

“If they catch us – ”

“We’ll be chastised,” deadpanned the blonde. “Oh, the horror.”

“You’re completely barmy!”

She tugged on the brunette’s wrist. “Come onnnn,” she pleaded. “You’re going back home tomorrow, this is all the time we have…”

“Elsie, you’ve been shot!” said Lara. “Bugger, did you really think I’d just pack up and leave?”

The American blinked, a warmth surging through her chest. “Lara…what are you saying??”

“I called Sam,” explained the brunette. “She freaked when I told her about what happened to you…I told her I’d be extending my stay for a few days…”

The blonde gaped at her friend, hardly daring to believe –

“I mean, if it’s all right with you,” amended Lara quickly.

Elsie’s view of Lara blurred over. A tear trickled down her cheek.

She pulled on the brunette’s wrist with all the strength she could muster.

The archaeologist squeaked in surprise as she toppled over onto the bed.

“C’mere!” squealed the blonde as she cocooned the Englishwoman, entwining limbs and pressing her body into her friend’s in a desperate effort to physically merge with the brunette. “God I love you!!”

“Hmpfh – ” replied Lara as Elsie smothered the brunette’s mouth in a loving embrace.

The American’s heart was near bursting: it was Christmas, Thanksgiving and her birthday all rolled into one, topped with whipped cream and cherries. It had almost been worth getting shot.

The nervousness in the archaeologist’s body began to dissipate, her apprehension at being caught in bed with a wounded patient slowly ebbing under Elsie’s tender ministrations.

Elsie’s head began swimming just as her tongue wrapped itself around Lara’s; the lingering effects of blood loss combined with soaring passion was proving too much.

_Dammit, no…_

But her body would have none of it.

She disengaged.

“Sorry…” she said earnestly. “That’s totally me…”

Lara shook her head. “Don’t be…Elsie, you’ve been running on adrenaline,” she said. “Did you really think you could just shrug off what you’ve been through?”

“You did,” countered the American. “God knows what you went through getting me here…”

“Yes, well,” said Lara, lightly tracing the tip of her finger down Elsie’s nose, “I was…sufficiently motivated.”

An alarming thought occurred to the blonde. “Lara…please tell me you’ve had something to eat…?”

A shrug.

“Jeesus,” swore Elsie, “You’ve had nothing since those Trinity goons showed up, what was that, four days ago now??”

“I didn’t think…I’d be able to keep it down,” said the brunette, looking downcast. “Not with you hanging by a thread…”

“Oh, girl,” lamented the blonde, running her fingers through her friend’s messy fringe. “Don’t fall into that trap, my God…you should go get something to eat right now, there must be vending mach -- "

“I’ll have a bite in the morning,” said the archaeologist dismissively.

“Lara, you’re starving!”

"So are you," returned the brunette.

"Yeah, well I'm an old ha-- "

She cut off.

"What?" asked Lara.

Elsie quickly swept the old memories back into the dusty mental cupboards. "Point is,” she continued slowly, “I wasn't the one who carried someone through miles of wilderness for an entire night without stopping...and all that without food…seriously, Lara, you look terrible. Gorgeous, but terrible."

The Englishwoman smiled slightly. "I didn't claim I wasn't knackered," she admitted.

"Exhausted, more like," continued the blonde. "And sore I bet, God knows what those bastards did to your back -- "

"It's fine."

"Bullshit," countered Elsie. "I heard that scream."

She entwined her hand with the brunette's.

"Lara…promise me you’re gonna let them treat you, okay?” she asked. “They told me you weren’t exactly….cooperative.”

A sigh.

"Promise me, Lara."

"Fine," conceded Lara reluctantly.

"Thank you," said Elsie. "And at breakfast we're both going to whatever doubles as the cafeteria around here and stuff our faces, okay?"

Lara smiled genuinely at that. "That sounds...lovely."

"Bangers and mash," smiled the blonde seductively. “Beans on toast…black pudding…cottage pie…Welsh rabbit…”

“Okay, someone’s been looking up English cuisine,” returned the archaeologist. “And I seriously doubt they’ll have any of that in here, never mind for breakfast….”

“…kippers….fish and chips…”

“You little bugger, you’re making it worse!”

“Tell you what,” laughed Elsie, squeezing the brunette’s hand, “When we get home I’ll make you whatever English dish you like, ‘kay?”

Lara’s eyebrows shot up.

“Even haggis?”

“Ugh,” replied Elsie, rolling her eyes. “Yes, even haggis…”


	13. Chapter 13

IN THE TIME WE HAVE: Chapter 13

Lara had just finished tying her bootlaces when the door to her room swung open. Her attending physician, an older African-American woman she knew as Dr. Weldon strolled into the room without looking up, instead flipping pages on a clipboard and shaking her head. Lara could almost hear the mental _tsk tsk’s._

The archaeologist sat quietly on the bed and waited for the inevitable harangue. She’d been through it often enough to almost script the upcoming exchange.

The woman flipped the overhanging papers back against the clipboard. “We received your medical records this morning,” she began, pulling a stool and taking a seat directly opposite the brunette. “Frankly, Lara, I have to admit to being a little shocked. Now I didn’t come here to lecture you, however –”

“Thank you,” interjected the archaeologist in the vain hope of avoiding the inevitable.

“– I have to ask, are you some sort of thrill-seeker or something? This list –” she held up her clipboard as a makeshift Exhibit A, “– is honestly frightening. Multiple concussions, countless lacerations, festering wounds, broken bones, infections –”

“I know my history,” returned Lara.

Dr. Weldon slowly nodded and slid the clipboard onto the wall cabinet. “I’m sure you do,” she said quietly. “Point is, the list is almost endless…and that’s only what’s been documented. What are you, twenty-four?”

Lara nodded discomfortingly. She hated being analyzed. Months of so-called ‘therapy’ after Yamatai had done nothing to subdue the dark shadows lingering in her memory.

The woman looked at her with an odd mixture of awe and impatience. “You keep this up,” she continued, “And I highly doubt you’ll reach thirty.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement,” replied the brunette, fidgeting nervously. She wasn’t interested in getting into another argument with a medical practitioner. She’d tell the doctor the absolute minimum, give up the least possible ammunition to use against her -- all she wanted was to leave, as quickly as could be managed. The only reason she hadn’t already stormed out of the room was the promise she’d made Elsie. She’d have to do this the hard way.

“I’m serious, Lara,” said the physician. “There’s more trauma listed here than I’ve seen for professional athletes. Football linebackers would cringe if they saw this, for heaven’s sake…”

“It’s an…occupational hazard,” said Lara.

The woman’s analytical gaze unsettled the brunette. “And what ‘occupation’ might that be?”

Lara’s jaw clenched. She remained silent – delving into the details of her life’s passion almost never found understanding ears.

The woman sighed. “I see,” she said. She leaned forward and clasped her hands between her knees. There was no severity in the woman’s gaze, only concern.

“Lara, I’m going to ask you just one question,” she began. “And I’d like you to be honest with me.”

The archaeologist looked at her. “Then can I go?”

The woman nodded slowly. “Yes,” she said. “Then you can go.”

“Fine.”

The woman stared at Lara in silence for an uncomfortably long moment before finally posing her query.

“Do you have a death wish?”

The Englishwoman blinked. “What? No!”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yes!” blurted Lara. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well, then why –”

“You said one question, Doctor,” interrupted the brunette.

The woman’s mouth hung open in mid-sentence.

“Look,” she resumed, “I’m only trying to help you….you’ve already suffered multiple concussions, and they’re cumulative, Lara. Eventually you’ll incur one that could prove crippling, perhaps even permanently. And in your case I’m worried that it may only be a matter of time.”

“Thank you for your concern,” said Lara, sliding off the bed. “May I go?”

The woman stared at her, shaking her head slowly. “This goes against my better judgment, but…yes, fine. I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

“Thank you.”

A resigned look. “I’ll have your release ready in a few minutes.”

Lara breathed an inward sigh of relief.

“Just remember what I said about taking it easy for the next six weeks,” said Dr. Weldon as Lara moved for the door. “A hairline compression fracture of the lumbar is no laughing matter.”

“I’ll take that –”

“-- under advisement,” finished the woman in frustration. “Right.”

Lara exited the room and strode down the hall, doing her best to ignore the looks she was garnering from both staff and patients; in her battered attire she knew she must have made quite a sight.

But at least she was free.

She made her way to Elsie’s room, knocking on the doorframe before peering inside.

Elsie was sitting on the edge of her bed, still clad in her hospital gown and reading a magazine.

“Hey,” said the blonde, looking Lara up and down. “You’re…um…’dressed’…”

Lara nodded as she entered the room. “She’s writing my release as we speak …she wasn’t overly keen, of course, but…”

“Herding cats, right?”

Lara smiled as she pushed herself onto the bed next to the blonde.

“What about you?” asked the archaeologist. “Hasn’t your physician come by yet?”

“Ugh…yeah,” said Elsie, her shoulders sagging. “They want to keep me another fourty-eight hours, can you believe it…”

“What? Why?”

“They wanna run some tests,” said Elsie, rolling her eyes, tossing the magazine aside. “Keep me under observation in case of infection, of all things…I just know they’ll wanna stick needles in me, the vampires…”

“Bugger…”

“You said it,” said Elsie miserably, raising her foot and letting it drop against the metal frame of the bed. “God I hate hospitals…”

Lara ran her fingers through her friend’s disheveled mane, carefully smoothing out the tangles. “Have you called your mum yet?”

“No!” blurted the blonde surprisingly forcefully. “And I won’t.”

“What?” asked the brunette, surprised. “Elsie, you have to tell her about this.”

“Tell her what?” returned the American. “That I was out hiking and just happened to get shot by some sort of secret cult, but everything’s fine? Mom’s a terrible worrier, Lara, she’ll just hear the word ‘shot’ and won’t listen beyond that point. She’ll come rushing over from Oregon in a panic…no, I won’t put her through that.”

Lara frowned. “I think you keep entirely too much from her.”

Elsie sighed. “I explained why I didn’t tell her about that shit, remember?”

“But surely she wouldn’t blame herself for this –”

“Look, I’ll tell her next time we’re together, all right?” said the blonde. “I just don’t want her to panic, Lara, that’s all. Which is what she definitely would do if she found out right now…if I tell her when we’re together, she’ll see I’m perfectly safe and sound, so…”

“Well, I’m staying here, then,” said the archaeologist.

The American looked at her, her pale eyebrows raised.

“What, you gonna camp out in my room for the next two days, Bear Grylls style?”

“Or until your release,” clarified the brunette. “Whichever comes first.”

Elsie flopped her head against the archaeologist’s shoulder. “Girl, you don’t have to do that, she said, smiling. “Besides you’re not a patient now, they’d kick you out as soon as visiting hours were over.”

“I’d like to see them try,” said Lara darkly.

“To be honest, I’d be curious to see that too,” chuckled the blonde. “Good thing we’re already in a hospital, at least they could get quick treatment, huh…”

“I’d try and limit it to sprains and bruises,” stated the Englishwoman. “No promises, though.”

Elsie giggled. “No, you won’t,” she said, snuggling closer. “You’ll stay at my place, nacht.”

“You’re daft,” said Lara. “I’m not going to leave you in this –”

“You’re not leaving me,” corrected the blonde. “You’ll just be minding the store for a couple of days. Don’t forget we were supposed to be back yesterday, and, well, I’m starting to worry about my plants…”

Lara turned to look at her companion. “You’re in hospital recovering from a gunshot wound,” she said incredulously, “And you’re worried about your sodding plants??”

“They’re lovely plants!” explained the American. “My landlord won’t allow pets, Lara, so, plants for me. They have wonderful therapeutic value, I’ll have you know. But some of them will need watering soon…guess you’re not much of a green thumb, are you?”

“But…I can’t just…”

Elsie slipped off the bed. Turning to face her companion, she straddled her legs around Lara’s waist as she sat on the brunette’s thighs. She wrapped her arms around the archaeologist’s neck and shoulders and gazed into her friend’s eyes, sitting so close that the tips of their noses lightly brushed against each other.

“Do this for me, okay,” she whispered. “It’ll give me something to look forward to while I’m cooped up in this bloodsucking gulag…”  
Lara swallowed deeply; she was cognisant of the various patients and staff drifting by the open doorway, but she was losing herself in the crystal-like depths of the blonde’s pale grey eyes.

“Please?” said Elsie softly, giving the brunette her frustratingly-difficult-to-resist puppy-eyed look. “With Jaffa cakes on top?”  
Lara sighed.

“You play dirty, Miss Trainor,” whispered the archaeologist.

Elsie smiled as she leaned in.

“Yeah, I do,” breathed the blonde. “But just you wait ‘til I get home…”

 

-oOo-

 

Lara locked the door to Elsie's car and strode up the walkway, glancing about nervously as she went. She was acutely conscious of her appearance: in her torn, filthy and bloodied clothing, she was certain to make quite an impression on any observers – mostly an alarming one.

She fumbled through Elsie's keychain, managing to unlock the door on her second try. She dashed inside and locked the door behind her.

She stood in the tiny landing; Elsie's flat was just as she'd remembered it from the previous week -- small, cluttered and altogether cozy, with a vaguely Bag-Endish vibe. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed, she noted with relief. Trinity seemed to believe Elsie was an incidental acquaintance of hers, an assumption she was hopeful would continue. The only members of the organization who knew different now lay dead in an ancient tomb in northwestern Maine.

It felt odd being in Elsie's flat without her companion; she almost felt like an intruder, even though she'd come at the blonde's insistence.

Maybe if she made herself useful…

She picked up the mail beneath the door's letterbox slot and stacked it neatly on the small end table.

_Okay, first things first..._

She entered the kitchenette in search of whatever Elsie used to water her plants; finding nothing immediately obvious, she rummaged through the cabinets until she found a large glass measuring cup -- it would do well enough.

A few minutes later and she was reasonably sure she'd hydrated her companion's flora to her satisfaction. She had no green thumb, as the American had surmised – she’d used roughly the same amount of water for each and crossed her fingers she hadn't drowned anything.

She made her way down the short hall. She desperately needed a shower.

It was when she stepped into the small bathroom that she remembered the one true luxury with which Elsie had managed to equip her tiny home: a large freestanding cast iron and porcelain bath tub.

Paradise. She hoped it might even temporarily relieve the knife-like pain in her lower back.

“Elsie, I love you…”

She made her way to the American’s study and took out some fresh clothes from her duffel bag, tossing her shredded garments into the trash. Rummaging through the bottom of the canvas sack, she fished out her phone, intensely grateful she'd left it behind for the hike. She quickly browsed her messages.

A week-old text from Sam: 

Another from Kaz: 

A few automated messages reminding her of subscription renewals.

Another from her uncle, no doubt further haranguing about her choice of “irresponsible” career. She skipped over it and closed the messaging app.

No voicemail. _Perfect._

She’d have to talk to Kaz once she got back. Somehow Trinity were anticipating her plans; the most likely possibility was some sort of computer or phone hack. Given her history with the organization, Lara was certain Alex’s sister wouldn’t stop until she’d sealed the electronic breach, wherever it lay.

She set her phone down on Elsie’s desk; a hand’s breadth away lay a small leather journal.

She eyed the tiny book curiously.

_I shouldn’t…I really shouldn’t…_

Lara’s fingers trailed across the worn cover.

She swallowed in anticipation. What might she find therein?

There was something oddly compelling about the blonde. On one hand she was an open book, and yet Lara had the distinct feeling her friend maintained parts of her past deeply buried within herself – given what the brunette already knew about the young woman’s life, she shuddered at what that might entail.

She stood there for what seemed like interminable moments; she was an explorer, after all.

But this…

She tried to internally justify her curiosity. She might be able to help, after all…

At that moment her eyes drifted to a tiny card propped up against the base of Elsie’s computer monitor. She leaned closer and read the inscription:

_Love you always,  
Lara_

Her heart wrenched as she bit her lip.

She lightly tapped the leather, twice. _And I always will…_

And left the room.


	14. Chapter 14

IN THE TIME WE HAVE: Chapter 14

Lara had barely stepped out onto the sidewalk car when she found herself on the receiving end of an enthusiastic hug: how the blonde had managed to scamper around the car in the brief moment it had taken Lara to extricate herself from the passenger seat she had no idea.

“I’m home!” squealed Elsie as she squeezed her companion enthusiastically. “Be it ever so humble…”

Lara smiled as she pressed her cheek against the blonde’s. “It’s ace that you’re back,” she said affectionately. “You have a lovely collection of books, but they’re not nearly as enjoyable as their owner…”

“Well, speaking of that, I asked my – oh, crap.”

Elsie hastily pulled away.

Lara frowned. “What’s the mat…oh…”

She followed the blonde’s gaze to a short and squat elderly woman slowly shuffling down the sidewalk, heading in their direction.

Elsie leaned close. “Just play along,” she whispered. “That’s my landlord…try not to say too much, I’ll explain later.”

“All right…”

“Hello, Mrs. Webb!” said Elsie brightly as the woman drew near. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Lara waved feebly.

“It most certainly is,” replied the woman, her wizened features creasing into a smile. “And it’s doubly nice to see you here, Elsie. For a while there I thought you had a squatter.”

She looked pointedly at Lara.

“Um, no,” said the blonde. “She was just minding the place for a couple of days while I was…away.”

“Well, isn’t that nice,” said the woman.

“Mrs. Webb, I’d like you to meet my friend…Laura,” said Elsie. “She’s from…Texas.”

Lara shot her a sideways glance. _Bugger, Elsie…_

“Ah, always lovely to meet a Southern Belle,” said the old woman sweetly, lightly shaking the brunette’s hand.

“Um…howdy,” said the archaeologist in her best Texan drawl, which, judging from Elsie’s slight wince, wasn’t overly convincing.

“Whereabouts in Texas do you call home, my dear?” asked Mrs. Webb. The blonde shifted nervously.

“Eh, Dallas,” replied Lara off the top of her head.

_Please don’t ask any more –_

“Ah, the big D,” returned the old woman. “Lovely city. Have you ever –”

“Oh!” exclaimed Elsie, looking at her watch. “Look at the time! Laura, we have to hurry, we’ll be late for the, um, video log –”

“Uh, right,” affirmed the archaeologist.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Webb, but we’ll have to do this another time,” said the blonde as she grasped Lara’s hand and pulled her along the walkway to her flat.

“More internet business, my dear?”

“That’s right!” replied Elsie as she fumbled for her keys with one hand. “Have uploads to do and…stuff…have a nice day!”

The two young women scurried into the comforting privacy of Elsie’s tiny home, the blonde turning to latch the door behind them. “Whew,” she breathed. “That was close.”

Lara spun on her companion. “Bloody hell, Elsie,” she blurted. “Did you have to make me a ruddy Texan??”

The American cupped her hands over her face but her quaking shoulders gave the game away.

“It’s not funny!” insisted the brunette, gesticulating in frustration. “Why couldn’t you make me from somewhere a little closer to home, like Wales or Scotland –”

Elsie burst out laughing.

“You little nutter,” said Lara, failing at keeping amusement out of her tone. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?!”

“I had to, I’m sorry,” laughed Elsie, pawing at Lara apologetically.

“Humph.”

“No, it’s true!” insisted the blonde. “She’s a hopeless busybody, Lara, she just loves to snoop in other people’s business if given half a chance. She’s also a bit of a redneck…she’s ridiculously suspicious of foreigners, almost paranoid, really.”

“I’m English!”

“Makes no difference to her,” explained Elsie. “You weren’t born here, so she’d probably think you came to re-establish British rule or something.”

Lara raised an eyebrow.

“That’s what you have for a landlord?” she asked. “Sounds rather…barmy…”

“Oh, she’s harmless,” said Elsie, waving a hand dismissively. “You just have to know how to get around her without pushing her buttons, is all.”

“Well, let’s just try and avoid her for the next couple of days, all right?” asked the brunette. “I’m not sure I can do a convincing ‘Southern Belle’.”

“Hm, yeah,” mused Elsie, stroking her chin. “My bad…maybe I shoulda picked someplace known for bizarre accents, like the Louisiana Bayou or something…”

Lara cringed. “Was it really that bad?”

Elsie opened her mouth and exhaled.

She grabbed Lara’s hand. “Come on,” she finally said, leading her companion toward her computer in the study. “Why don’t we go surf up some haggis recipes…”

 

-oOo-

 

Elsie flipped the switch.

The lights fluttered to life; the book-lined shelves glowed their familiar brownish hues.

She turned to look at her companion. Lara stood there in evident awe, her brown eyes wide as she slowly scanned the gallery’s arrays of rare tomes.

“My God, Elsie,” said the brunette breathlessly. “This is where you _work??_ ”

“Most days, yeah,” returned the blonde with a grin. “Thought you might like a private tour.”

Lara moved ahead slowly, as though fearful of disturbing the sanctity of the place.

“Go on,” encouraged Elsie, nodding toward the bookshelves. “Don’t be shy, they won’t bite.”

The brunette spun to face the American. “But…you won’t get in trouble for this, I hope?”

Elsie smiled. “Of course not,” she assured the Englishwoman. “I already cleared it with my boss, he knows we’re here. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Absolutely, positively sure,” said Elsie. She grasped Lara’s wrist and forcibly pulled her to a nearby bookshelf, pressing the brunette’s hand against a first edition volume of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. “There, you touched one, see?”

She looked up at the ceiling, the archaeologist following her gaze.

“The sky doesn’t appear to be falling,” remarked the blonde. “That’s odd…the Earth continues to rotate…”

She looked back to her companion. “Somehow we’ve managed to avoid the Apocalypse. Go figure.”

Lara put her hand on her hip. “Are you through?” she said with a smirk.

“For the moment,” said Elsie serenely. “Now, go get your fingers dusty…”

The Englishwoman slowly wandered about the rows and displays, her face glowing with a gleeful anticipation normally seen on young children on Christmas morning. Elsie giggled.

“Good lord…where to begin…” mused the brunette.

She turned to the American. “Any recommendations? You know what I like…”

Elsie mused the question. “Well,” she began, stroking her chin thoughtfully, “We do have a First Folio edition of Shakespeare’s works currently in on loan…”

Lara ran her hand through her hair. “Shakespeare’s First Folio?? Gods, Elsie…”

The blonde smiled. “Good place to start?”

The brunette nodded, swallowing in anticipation.

Elsie slid her arm around her companion’s waist, slowly guiding her companion down the main hall in the direction of the Special Exhibits section of the gallery.

“Just try not to drool on the books, please,” cautioned the blonde.

“No promises,” breathed Lara.

Elsie smiled as she nuzzled her companion’s cheek. The archaeologist’s adorable quotient had flipped off the charts.

“After that how about a genuine da Vinci Codex?”

The brunette’s knees wobbled.

“You’re fibbing…yes? Please tell me you’re fibbing…?”

The blonde sighed contentedly. It promised to be a long but delightful night.

 

-oOo-

 

“Oh my God, don’t go back into the house!” hissed Elsie, leaning forward. “He’s in there!!”

Lara was sitting back in her seat and trying her best to ignore her friend’s protestations. Following the story unfolding on the cinema’s screen was proving to be a challenge.

The blonde clasped both hands to her head. “What are you doing??” she exclaimed. “Oh yes, by all means throw away your axe, it’s you’re only weapon, you moron!”

The brunette shifted uncomfortably. “Um, Elsie –”

The American stood up and seemed about to clamber into the row of seats in front of her. “Turn around! He’s behind you!! Oh, for --”

Lara grasped Elsie by the shoulder and pulled her companion back into her seat. “She can’t hear you!” whispered the brunette.

The blonde slouched back and crossed her arms, glaring at the screen. “Okay, I’m totally rooting for the killer now,” she said darkly. “At least he has half a brain…she should win a freaking Darwin Award…”

“Shhh!”

Lara flinched at the rebuke from one of the theatre’s patrons behind them.

Elsie grumbled something unintelligibly and kicked the back of the seat before her.

The archaeologist leaned over. “Explain to me again why you like horror movies?” she whispered into the American’s ear.

Elsie turned to her companion and grinned. “Because they’re so interactive, silly!”

“Seems you find them more aggravating than interactmmphh –”

Lara was startled to find her mouth full of exploring American tongue, an arm snaking around her neck for good measure. The blonde’s ability to abruptly change gears was something she hadn’t quite gotten accustomed to.

It didn’t take long for the overt display of affection to get noticed.

“Woo-hoo!” came the first of the catcalls behind them.

“We got action, boys!”

A female voice. “God, that’s hot…”

“Get a room!”

“Shhh!!”

Lara pulled back abruptly, certain her cheeks were flushing noticeably even in the theatre’s dim lighting.

“Awwwww…”

“Don’t stop!”

“Do it again!”

“Quiet!”

“SHHH!!”

The brunette slid down into her seat as low as she could manage. Oh God…

Elsie leaned close. “Getcha later,” she whispered with an impish smile, a lingering finger slowly trailing along the archaeologist’s neckline before eventually finding its way back to its owner’s lap.

 

-oOo-

 

“You’re dripping.”

“Ack!” blurted the brunette, licking the sides of her ice cream cone in an effort to stem the slow melting of her confection.

Lara kicked herself for not anticipating the inevitable; it was a hot afternoon after all, shade notwithstanding – and now her fingers were getting sticky.

The two young women were seated on a bench in Portland’s central park, overlooking the river while nearby buskers entertained a group of school children.

“What’s next for you?” asked Elsie, taking a bite of her cone, which Lara noted with envy was devoid of the sagging deficiencies affecting the Englishwoman’s. “After you get home, I mean?”

Lara mused the question. “Tibet, possibly,” she finally replied. “We’ve been working on getting the necessary permits for the better part of a year. Chinese bureaucracy can be frustratingly lethargic when you’re unable to bribe your way to the head of the queue…”

The American flopped her head against the brunette’s shoulder and sighed.

“Please don’t go,” she whispered.

Lara bit her lip. “Elsie –”

“I know,” interjected the blonde. “Don’t answer that…I’m just being selfish…”

The archaeologist pressed a kiss against her companion’s forelocks. “For what it’s worth,” she said softly, “You’re making it bloody hard to leave…”

Elsie smiled. “Well, at least I’m not making it easy.”

“Hardly,” echoed Lara. “I’ll have you know I’m already looking forward to my next visit…”

The two sat quietly for a time, intermittently sampling each other’s ice cream treats while observing the crowd of children laughing happily at the entertainment provided by the street performers.

“Do you ever think of the future, Lara?” asked the blonde out of the blue. “I mean…what your life might be like five or ten years from now?”

"Sometimes," returned the brunette. "Mostly I wonder who will still be in my life by then...it frightens me to think about that, actually. Other than that, I expect I’ll still be out there…searching…"

She slid a hand around Elsie’s waist and gave her friend an affectionate squeeze. "What about you?"

Silence.

Lara leaned forward; her companion was staring intently at the schoolchildren basking in their playtime.

"Hello?"

The blonde blinked. "Sorry, I just...like to take it one day at a time," she finally returned.

"You all right?"

The American smiled sadly and nodded.

The archaeologist frowned. "I will be back, Elsie," she assured her friend. "I promise."

"I know," whispered the blonde. “Lara…I…”

The American hesitated.

“Elsie?”

The brunette felt Elsie’s arm wrap around her midsection as her companion cuddled closer.

“I’ll just…miss you so much, girl…”

 

-oOo-

 

It was to be their last sleep together before Lara’s departure.

The two young women were sprawled on Elsie’s bed, gazing into each other’s eyes; no words were needed to convey the significance of their final night together.

The blonde’s hand slowly reached out, trembling; the tips of her fingers slowly trailed across Lara’s features, resuming an intimate exploration she’d all too briefly experienced once before.

She traced the partly healed gash along the brunette’s cheekbone before moving lower, curving around the corner of Lara’s mouth before drawing a sinewy line just below her lower lip. Her fingers then slowly shifted upwards, gently floating over the dips and crests of soft lips and up the smooth cheek before tracing over a gossamer line than ran across the bridge of Lara’s nose.

The blonde’s mouth was open slightly, her breathing becoming deeper. She edged closer, her grey eyes darting across the exquisitely scratched skin.

“I love these so much,” she whispered as her fingertip drew a slow curve under her companion’s orbital bone.

Her eyes locked into the brunette’s. “Is that wrong?”

The brunette smiled. “Just don’t give me too many more.”

Lara closed her eyes, sensing the impossibly light touches drifting over the old injuries, slowly repainting past chapters of her life. She could feel the blonde’s soft breath against her skin.

“So beautiful,” breathed Elsie.

Fingertips gave way to gentle lips pressing delicately across her features, gradually working their way lower until they slid over Lara's own parted mouth.

Tongues writhed together inside Lara; the brunette, cognizant of the strength of her passion, allowed her companion to dictate the intensity of the embrace.

Elsie lingered a few moments more before withdrawing, sucking Lara’s tongue as she slowly slid out. Her kisses moved down the curve of Lara's chin, the brunette throwing her head back as her companion worked her way down the slender column of her throat. The blonde paused at its base, pressing delicate kisses into the defined hollow between the archaeologist's collarbones before slowly resuming her downward path.

The Englishwoman chewed her lower lip as Elsie's kisses slowly worked down her chest, exploring her deepening cleavage before finally pausing at the thin cotton border formed by the brunette's top.

"Don't stop," gasped Lara.

A trembling finger slid under Lara’s shoulder strap, slowly shifting the cotton band to the descending curve of her arm. The blonde then moved to the opposite side, gently sliding its twin from the brunette’s shoulder.

Elsie swallowed nervously as she peeled the thin cotton garment downward. She licked her lips as she slowly exposed the luscious contours of Lara’s perfect breasts. The blonde stared open-mouthed before slowly drawing her gaze up to the Englishwoman’s.

“How can you even exist?” she whispered, shaking her head in wonder.

She didn’t wait for an answer. A moment later she had her face buried in the brunette’s bosom, alternately kissing and nipping the supple flesh with such verve that the archaeologist had the sensation of being lovingly cannibalized.

Lara’s breathing accelerated as she cradled the back of the American’s head and pulled her deeper into her chest.

The blonde began to suckle.

“Gods, Elsie,” panted the brunette.

She gasped at the intense sensation of her flesh being drawn into the young woman’s mouth, the blonde’s hunger slowly magnifying her own until it burst forth in uncontrollable desire.

She shoved the American with sufficient force to send her flopping backward onto the bed with a squeak of surprise. Lara was on the blonde in an instant, roughly pushing up Elsie’s shirt to reveal smooth, ghostly skin stretching across a lean abdomen, the flesh so pale that the bandage plastered on her side almost disappeared from sight.

Elsie had always been pretty -- but now she was beautiful.

Lara’s hungry mouth roamed across the milky expanse, tenderly kissing the young woman’s firm stomach in between more forceful bites. Her hand snaked downward in search of the girls’ loins.

The blonde was breathing heavily. Lara’s lips rode the undulating stomach as she slowly slid her mouth up the shallow slope to the girl’s ribcage. Elsie was not endowed with Lara-like curves; her body was lean, athletic and supple, with a decidedly virginal quality.

The brunette’s hand slipped under the cotton of her companion’s knickers, while her other hand pulled the shirt higher. Lara slid her lips up the girl’s heaving chest as it rose and fell with increasing speed and intensity. The archaeologist kissed the soft mound of Elsie’s breast, the skin there being especially pale and buttery-smooth.

Lara’s lower hand found the soft folds of skin it had been seeking; two fingers gently probed the tender flesh before slipping inside the warm moistness.

Elsie’s entire body shuddered.

The archaeologist writhed her body against the American’s. Her full breasts filled the hollow of the blonde’s abdominal cavity before slowly sliding up over the young woman’s chest.

The brunette covered Elsie’s panting mouth with her own. Her tongue wrestled with the blonde’s as she drove her probing fingers in deeper.

The American’s body stiffened abruptly.

A muffled squeal. A painful knee to Lara’s midsection, followed by another, harder thrust, which was itself immediately followed by a violent thrashing as Elsie frantically extracted herself from beneath the brunette, pushing pushed herself off so forcefully that her back impacted the headboard and dislodged a picture frame from the wall. The glass covering the photo shattered as it crashed to the floor.

Lara pushed herself up to her knees, gaping at her companion.

“I’m so sorry!” said the Englishwoman. “Did I hurt – ”

She cut off; the blonde was pressed back against the headboard, her knees drawn up protectively. But the girl’s countenance was not one of pain.

Rather, she was staring wide-eyed at the brunette with an expression of absolute terror.

Lara was aghast; she reached out only to have the girl squeal in fright and draw back even tighter against the headboard. The archaeologist pulled her hand back hurriedly.

“Elsie, what’s wrong??”

The blonde’s grey eyes seemed ready to pop from their sockets.

“Bugger,” whispered the brunette, a chilling realization running down her spine. “Elsie…it’s me, Lara…I won’t hurt you…”

The American’s breathing, dangerously close to hyperventilation moments before, began to gradually slow to a less alarming level.

“I thought…I could do this,” she finally said in a tiny voice. “It’s been so long…I really…thought I could…”

Lara’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, Elsie…”

Glittering grey eyes focused on hers. “Lara, I’m so sorry…I just…can’t…”

The archaeologist moved to embrace her companion, only to have the blonde shrink back from her touch.

_My God…_

“Just…look at me…” squeaked Elsie as her eyes welled up. “I’m hopeless…”

“What did he do to you?” whispered the brunette, shaking her head in disbelief, desiring nothing more than to provide some measure of comfort to her friend.

The blonde was trembling; Lara could see she was waging an intense battle within herself.

“There was a reason he left, Lara,” said the American finally, her voice quivering and weak. “He couldn’t…couldn’t hide it anymore…”

The Englishwoman was biting her lip painfully, her own eyes misting over at the sight of her friend’s anguish.

The blonde’s gaze drifted to the bedsheets, tears streaming freely down her face. Her shoulders drooped in final defeat. “I was fourteen,” she said, every word seeming to be an intense struggle. “And…and he…”

She collapsed onto the bed and burst into tears.

Lara pulled Elsie up and drew her into an embrace; the American’s fingers dug into her shoulders painfully.

“HE MADE ME KILL IT, LARA!!” wailed the blonde uncontrollably. “HE MADE ME KILL IT!!!”

_Oh my God…_

Tears trickled down Lara’s cheeks as she held the blonde close. The young woman’s body was wracked by heaving sobs, her very soul threatening to sunder in agony. Lara felt utterly helpless.

She held the American for an interminable time until the sobs slowly reduced from sheer emotional exhaustion.

She felt the blonde’s hands slowly release their grip as the American drew back. The sight of her young companion moved Lara profoundly: Elsie looked utterly drained. Empty.

“He forced me, Lara,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I had to tell the doctor…that it had been my own stupid fault…for shacking up with a random dude for a one night stand…I was SO irresponsible…”

“Gods, Elsie,” whispered Lara as she gently wiped fresh tears from the blonde’s cheeks.

“But…he knew that excuse…would only go so far,” continued Elsie, “And so…he left…”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I’d reached that age, you know…from that point his actions would have…visible consequences…I was no longer ‘convenient’…”

The brunette stroked her companion’s hair, her heart breaking at the depth of the confession she was now privy to.

Elsie brandished an unconvincing smile on her tear-streaked face. “I suppose some folks…might call me damaged goods, huh…”

“Elsie, that is such rubbish!” said the brunette.

“And they’d be right to,” continued the blonde miserably. “Just look at me, Lara…it’s been almost ten years…and I can’t even make out…not even with someone I love and trust…”

Lara brushed blonde locks from her friend’s eyes. “We’ll work on that,” she said softly. “And in the meantime, my love for you will never be dependent on our ‘making out’.”

Grey eyes looked into hers.

“I love you, Elsie,” said the archaeologist softly. “More than I can ever say…”

The blonde burst into tears once more. The two friends fell back into each other’s arms.

There would be no further lovemaking that night.

But there would be love.


	15. Chapter 15

IN THE TIME WE HAVE, Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER

Lara gently unfurled the ancient tapestry onto her desk, being careful to avoid damaging the timeworn artifact. It was exactly as Jonah had described: roughly a foot square, heavily tattered around the edges, but clearly a map to something significant. Marrakesh had not been a bust, after all.

“I can’t make out any words,” said Sam as she leaned over Lara’s shoulder. “How can you know where it leads if you can’t even tell where it starts?”

Lara slouched back slightly in her chair. “That’s the rub, isn’t it?” she admitted. “But if we take this to the university and have the material analyzed, they might be able to give us at least a generalized idea where it was made.”

“And if they come back with something like ‘Continent of Asia’…?”

Lara smiled. “Well then, we’ll have eliminated six of the seven possibilities, won’t we?”

“Sure,” said the Asian-American, squeezing her companion’s shoulder affectionately. “It’ll be a cinch.”

The doorbell rang.

They both glanced at the time. “I’ll get that, guess Kaz is early,” muttered Sam, playfully tugging the brunette’s ponytail before drawing off.

Lara continued to study the ancient map, her curiosity growing. She would find where the arcane document lead, regardless of the seemingly insurmountable challenge it currently presented.

Her eyes drifted to her phone. She grasped the device and checked her messages for the third time that afternoon.

Nothing since the day before, when Elsie had sent her a single heart emoticon via instant messaging. Lara had tried calling and texting her American friend several times since but had received no response.

“Uh, Lara?”

She swiveled in her in chair to see a visibly nervous Sam standing at the doorway.

“There’s a man at the door,” continued the Asian-American. “He’s asking for you.”

Lara carefully hid the map in the desk drawer and got to her feet. “Who?”

“Ah…oops,” said Sam sheepishly. “I didn’t think to ask…he sort of creeps me out, Lara.”

The archaeologist blinked. “What do you mean?”

The Asian-American shrugged. “He kinda has a Boris Karloff thing going on,” she clarified. “Anyway, he doesn’t look too happy about something…”

Lara opened the desk’s bottom drawer and withdrew her pistol.

“Oh, no,” said Sam, waving her hands frantically. “Nothing like that, he’s an old guy, Lara, he’s not somebody’s hitman if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s polite and all, he’s just…intimidating. Sounds like a local, too.”

The archaeologist reluctantly slipped the pistol back into its drawer; she didn’t like being unarmed when dealing with unexpected strangers at her door, but she would trust Sam’s judgement on the matter.

She approached the landing and froze.

She recognized the man standing in the open doorway.

Nathan Fletcher. Proprietor of the Paddington Book Gallery of Portland. Here in London.

And he was looking positively grim.

Lara’s spine turned ice cold. She could think of only one reason for his presence.

_No..._

“What’s happened?” she asked pointedly, her alarm precluding all thoughts of civility.

The old man drew forward and held out an envelope.

“I’m very sorry, Miss Croft,” said Fletcher sadly.

Lara eyed the envelope with an almost overpowering dread.

“No,” she said as she held her hands up and took a halting step back, her emotions bubbling up dangerously. “No…no, it can’t be…she can’t be…it’s not possible…”

Fletcher looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I truly wish it wasn’t, Miss Croft.”

“Lara…?” asked Sam cautiously from behind. “What’s going on?”

The archaeologist was breathing deeply. It felt as though someone had just driven a serrated dagger through her heart.

Her trembling fingers reached for the envelope; she’d half-convinced herself that if she didn’t touch the document whatever contained therein might not come to pass.

But she knew full well the universe didn’t work that way.

She took the envelope from Fletcher’s hand. She was fighting desperately to maintain her composure, but it was a rapidly losing battle.

“Sir,” she croaked, “When…how…?”

The old man sighed.

“I regret that Miss Trainor was diagnosed with cancer some six months ago –”

“Oh my God!” blurted Sam in horrified realization.

“She underwent treatment, of course,” continued the book gallery director. “But in the end…it was too much for her heart, I’m afraid.”

Lara squeezed her eyes shut; she felt Sam’s hand on her shoulder.

_Hold it together, Lara, just a few moments more…_

She took a deep breath and forced her eyes open, tears streaming down her face despite her best efforts. “She…never mentioned anything…”

The old man nodded solemnly. “Miss Trainor’s health…was never strong, Miss Croft,” he explained. “As I understand it, she may have stood a fair chance had her condition been detected earlier…however, Miss Trainor had an unfortunate aversion to hospitals…”

“Sir,” continued Lara painfully. “I have to ask…when…when did it hap --”

She choked on the last word.

“Yesterday morning,” replied Fletcher. “Shortly before ten o’clock…I’m afraid I don’t have the precise time…”

Lara nodded silently, her jaw clenched tightly shut.

The old man indicated the envelope in her hand. “She asked that I deliver the contents therein to you.”

“Thank you,” gasped Lara.

“You have my sincerest condolences, Miss Croft.”

Thank you, mouthed Lara silently, nodding.

And with that, the old man was gone.

Lara turned to find Sam standing before her, wide-eyed in shock.

“My God, Lara,” she whispered. “I’m so very sorry…”

“Thanks, Sam,” replied the archaeologist hoarsely with a pained smile. “But I need to be alone right now…”

“Sure, sweetie,” said the filmmaker, stroking her friend’s back soothingly. “I’ll just hang out in the kitchen…I’ll be right here if you need me, okay?”

Lara made her way to the study; her body felt strangely muted, almost as though the air was comprised of soundproof fog.

It can’t be, she told herself disbelievingly, still in shock. She’d spoken to the blonde only weeks before and the girl had been fine.

Or at least, so Elsie had led her to believe.

And then there was that instant message from the previous day.

She sat down gingerly at her desk. She remained there, unmoving, for several minutes, dreading to open the envelope: she knew that to absorb its contents would force her to acknowledge that which her heart could not bear to endure. But she had to face the truth, regardless of the pain it caused. She was entirely too used to that.

With trembling hands Lara opened the envelope and unfolded the letter therein, wiping her eyes as she began to read.

_Dearest Lara,_

_I know what you’re thinking. Please don’t be mad at me._

_I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to remember me this way. I’d be much happier with you remembering me as I was. As we were._

_They were the happiest times of my life._

_Well, take away the getting shot bit, and…yeah. But the rest? I wouldn’t trade it for anything._

_Do you remember when we first met? You threw up lol – glad it wasn’t indicative of our future friendship, huh!_

_Needless to say, I’ve had lots of time over the last few weeks to think about what happens to us after we go; I guess you could say I’ve been a little preoccupied with the subject of life after death – it’s not like I had much else to do in this freaking place._

_I don’t know what will happen when the time comes, but something you said once stuck with me: that there are things out there that we aren’t meant to understand, mysteries that defy all attempts at rational explanation. That brought me so much comfort these last few weeks, Lara, you have no idea. I thought you might like to know that._

_Maybe that quest of yours for the secret of immortality is all for naught, huh? Maybe it’s inherent in all of us already…if so, I’ll save you a seat. We’re gonna have so much fun, girl…_

_In the meantime, I’ll ask you to do yourself a favour: take good care of Sam. If she’s stuck with you all this time, with the lifestyle you lead, then she loves you more than I thought humanly possible. It’ll make me feel so much better knowing there’s someone out there that cares for you that much, because you so deserve that in your life, girl. Treasure her, Lara, because she sure as hell treasures you. Don’t let Lara Croft drift away from those that love her._

_I wish I didn’t have to but I’m going to have to cut this short…I’ve been going at this for the last couple of days and I don’t know how many I have left, and the last thing I’d want you to read is a half-finished letter. I get tired so easily these days._

_I had a good life, Lara. I know it might not seem like it sometimes, but I really did._

_I met you._

_What else needs be said?_

_Lara, I love you more than life. And I will beyond it._

_Goodbye my friend_

_Elsie_

Lara slouched back in her chair. The volcanic bubbling of emotions could no longer be contained.

Her trembling hand reached for her phone.

She checked the last message she’d received from Elsie, the simple heart emoticon.

2:49 PM.

She did the math.

9:49 AM, Maine time.

_Oh, God…_

She threw her head back and let loose a scream from the depths of her soul that threatened to shred her vocal chords.

Within moments Sam’s comforting arms were around her, cradling her protectively as Lara continued to erupt in unrestrained anguish.

“Sam…she’s gone!”

“I know,” said the Asian-American softly, pressing her cheek to her companion’s. “I’m so sorry, sweetie…”

“She was an angel, Sam…an angel!”

A gentle kiss pressed to her cheekbone.

“I’ll wager she still is, Lara,” whispered the filmmaker. “I’ll wager she still is…”

 

-oOo-

 

Sam waited by the hall’s entrance while Lara said her goodbyes to the family. All, that is, except for Elsie’s father, who had wandered off somewhere at some point during the post-funeral reception. That particular detail relieved Sam, at least. There was something off-putting about the man; maybe it had to do with the way he kept ogling Lara during the services, or maybe it was the disinterest Sam kept sensing regarding his daughter’s passing. Everyone else had been in tears while he’d kept glancing at his watch as though worried he might miss the afternoon football game.

She’d genuinely hoped her impressions about the man had been misplaced, but his disappearance from the post-funeral reception had sealed it for her.

Of course she hadn’t voiced any of this to Lara, out of respect for her friend’s grieving. But there had been a decidedly awkward moment earlier that afternoon: the moment they’d been introduced to Elsie’s father. The archaeologist’s demeanour was visibly icy, even though the casual observer would likely not have noticed. But Sam knew her Lara well, and could read the subtle shifts in the young woman’s body language: the Englishwoman’s profession of sympathy to the man had been clipped and short, entirely different from the heartfelt words she’d expressed to the rest of Elsie’s family, the handshake likewise light and brief. Of course the man had been unabashedly undressing Lara with his eyes since their arrival, so she could hardly blame her friend’s iciness.

The archaeologist was striding down the hall towards her; her friend’s countenance was one of emotional exhaustion.

“Hey,” said Sam sweetly as she cradled an arm around her companion’s shoulders. “You okay, sweetie? You know what, forget I said that – stupid question.”

Lara smiled tiredly at the filmmaker. “It’s okay, Sam,” she said. “Thanks for coming with me…I know it couldn’t have been easy for you…”

“She meant a lot to you, sweetie,” returned the Asian-American. “Which means she meant a lot to me, too.”

“Thanks, Sam,” replied Lara softly.

“Come on,” said the filmmaker. “Let’s get you home…”

They’d almost made it to their rental when Lara stopped in her tracks.

“Lara? Did you forget something?”

Sam traced back her companion’s gaze to a man talking on a cell phone near the facility’s wine room. And speaking with an all too jovial tone, especially considering he’d just buried his own daughter.

Oh shit, not him, thought the filmmaker.

“Wait here, Sam,” said the archaeologist.

“Lara, wait,” interjected the Asian-American. “Babe, you know I don’t want to say anything bad about Elsie’s family, but…you don’t have to say anything to him. He just…doesn’t care. I know that’s an awful thing to say, but --”

“I know he doesn’t,” returned the Englishwoman. “Which is why I’d like a private word.”

“Sweetie, you don’t have to do this,” said Sam. “Just forget about him –”

“I can’t, Sam,” replied Lara darkly.

The Asian-American blinked. “Lara, what’s wrong?”

“Just…wait here,” repeated the archaeologist forcefully. “Please…I have to do this…”

“But…oh…fine then…”

Sam watched as her companion approached Elsie’s father, flinching in disgust at the look in the man’s eyes once he caught sight the archaeologist. He quickly pocketed his phone and openly leered at the Englishwoman.

But what truly astonished Sam was Lara’s own deportment; far from being cold and distant, she seemed to be chatting amicably with the man. Even…

_Oh my God, thought Sam, is she…actually coming on to him?? Lara, what the fuck?!_

The archaeologist opened the door to the wine room, and they disappeared within.

Sam’s stomach churned.

 _There’s a method to her madness_ , she told herself desperately. _There has to be…_

 

-oOo-

 

George couldn’t believe his turn of luck. Having to waste half a day at a stinking funeral had been bad enough, never mind the rental of a suit, but he’d entirely forgotten to set his PVR.

But now, his fortunes had finally turned for the better – the gorgeous English brunette he’d been eyeing throughout the day’s services was here.

And best of all -- she was loose!

The lights fluttered to life as he strode into the wine room, the walls of the small stone building lined with dusty racks containing an assortment of spirits.

The brunette closed the door behind them.

His ears detected the sound of a lock being turned.

“Good idea,” he said, grinning. “We wouldn’t want to be interrupted now, would we?”

The Englishwoman slowly turned to him, her face strangely devoid of emotion.

“No,” she said in agreement. “We wouldn’t want that…”

She gazed at the nearest selection of wines and selected a bottle.

“Pinot Noir,” she said softly, perusing the label. “I wonder if 2007 was a good year…”

“Only one way to find out,” chuckled George.

The brunette seemed to muse something for a moment, before flipping the bottle around in her hands and gripping it by the neck.

She smashed the vintage against the wall, shattering the bottle’s lower half.

“Whoa, careful!” said George, pointing to the splatter of glass and wine on the floor. “I’m not cleaning up that shit…”

The young woman slowly turned to look at him – there was a fire in her eyes that he found unsettling.

“No, I don’t expect you will,” she said ominously.

She took a step toward him, holding the neck of the partly-shattered bottle at her side.

“But you needn’t concern yourself,” continued the brunette with unnerving coldness. “I expect the coroners will have a dedicated cleanup crew…”

 

-oOo-

 

Sam hadn’t been sitting on the steps of the reception hall five minutes when she saw Lara making her way back down the gravel path, wiping her hands with what looked to be a man’s handkerchief. The filmmaker scrambled back to her feet.

“Well, that was quick,” said the Asian-American, relieved. “I was hoping that flirting bit was just an act…gave him a piece of your mind, did you?”

“In a manner of speaking,” said the archaeologist, whose cheeks Sam noted were slightly flushed.

“Oh my God,” said Sam, cupping her hand over her mouth. “You totally belted him…didn’t you??”

Lara sighed and grasped her companion’s hands.

“Trust me, Sam,” she said softly, looking into the filmmaker’s eyes. “He got what was coming to him…and that’s as much as I’ll ever say on the matter.”

The filmmaker swallowed her lower lip.

But she trusted her friend implicitly. Whatever she’d done.

“Okay,” she finally breathed. “End of story then.”

“Thank you,” said Lara.

The archaeologist slipped an arm around her companion’s waist as they slowly made their way back down the path to their rental car.

“Sam…let’s go somewhere,” said Lara as the Asian-American returned her friend’s embrace.

The filmmaker did a double take. “Sure, sweetie, but we’re still waiting for the Tibet permits…not to mention we haven’t figured out where that map of yours even starts, and those are your only leads at the moment –”

“I don’t mean that,” returned the Englishwoman. “Let’s just…go somewhere…wherever the road takes us…”

Sam stopped, her companion likewise lurching to a halt as a consequence of the arm around her midsection.

The Asian-American could hardly believe her ears.

“You mean…just for fun??”

“Yes, Sam,” replied Lara earnestly. “Let’s go have fun…”

Sam’s eyes were welling with tears. “Oh, babe…it’d be just like old times…”

The archaeologist drew close, lightly brushing away Sam’s fringe.

“Let’s make some new times,” said Lara softly, her beautiful brown eyes searching her companion’s. “I really should start appreciating the present a little more…”

Their lips connected. Sam was both astonished and ecstatic -- Lara wasn’t one to kiss in public unless she’d had a few drinks in her. Not that she was complaining, mind you.

The Englishwoman slowly drew back and smiled.

“Come on, Sam,” she said as they started down the path once more. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand…”


End file.
